


Lost My Space

by Danger_Mouse



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Doctor Clarke Griffin, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Engineer Raven, Extinction, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Interstellar (2014), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soldier Anya, Soldier Lexa (The 100), Time Skips, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-01-31 16:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21448942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danger_Mouse/pseuds/Danger_Mouse
Summary: There is a stack of folders in a repurposed cardboard box. Originally meant to carry reams of paper, the box shipped halfway round the world had unwittingly become the vessel carrying the futures of the numerous names nestled safely within it’s corrugated walls. Pilots, soldiers, doctors, engineers, geologists, astronomers, physicists, etc. The list was extensive and those who found themselves on that list were the best that could be found in their field on their rapidly dying planet.OrA story about the human race's last ditch effort to survive a mass extinction and all the lovely drama that entails.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 74
Kudos: 161





	1. Part 1

**Selection**

  
  


There is a stack of folders in a repurposed cardboard box. Originally meant to carry reams of paper, the box shipped halfway round the world had unwittingly become the vessel carrying the futures of the numerous names nestled safely within it’s corrugated walls. Pilots, soldiers, doctors, engineers, geologists, astronomers, physicists, etc. The list was extensive and those who found themselves on that list were the best that could be found in their field on their rapidly dying planet.

Manila folders slide from one side of the box to the other as a security officer carries it to its final destination, a solid oaken desk. Old and tarnished and stubborn to leave the otherwise modern office. It had simply been too heavy and big to move out of the space in one piece and held too much history to be unceremoniously carried out piece by piece to be forgotten in storage, left to gather dust. That or the person who sat behind that desk was a bit sentimental. 

“Madam President, the files you’ve requested have arrived.” 

“Ahh, Phillip, thank you.” The President looks up from her computer, eyes sparkling with a smile in an effort to hide the anxiety and fear behind them. “You may place them here, please.” She points to the corner of her desk, moves a couple papers and a tea cup out of the way. 

The box rests awkwardly on the desk. Immediately looking out of place in a world of advancements meant to keep as much bulky paper out of the equation. The President stares down the box, willing it to disappear. Willing the name she knows will be in it to be safe at home, wrapped in blankets, drinking hot chocolate in front of the tv, carefree and 16 again. More than anything, the President wants the issue that brings this box to her to be non-existent. She wants the threat of total extinction to be something people read in science fiction books, not as a daily headline. A world not engulfed in the panic it now finds itself. Farmlands turning to deserts, coastlines being swallowed by ocean waters full of the decaying corpses of lost marine populations. Neighbors killing each other in order to stockpile things normally taken for granted. Food. Water. Gasoline. Healthy soil. Fucking toilet paper. 

“-Madam President.” The President is torn from her thoughts by the closing of a sentence she was not listening to. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if there is anything you would like, Madam President.” Phillip shifts his weight uncomfortably waiting for a response. 

“No. No that will be all, Phillip. Thank you very much.” 

“The pleasure is mine.” The man nods politely before turning on his heel, making his way towards the door and his other duties for the day. He doesn’t make it though. 

“Actually, Phillip.” The President calls out for her security guards attention. 

“Do you know what’s in this box?” She gestures to the object in question as Phillip walks timidly back towards his President. 

“Uhh..” He shrugs and shakes his head. “Files of some kind, Madam President.” 

The President stand from her leather desk chair to reach for the box. She slides it to herself and lifts the lid revealing folder upon folder, haphazardly strewn about, all individually wrapped with a single rubber band and a white label with a name and title taped to the front. She selects a folder from the top of the pile and lays is reverently on the desk in front of her. She peels away the band before slowly opening the file, revealing its contents. A small photo taken with a blue background making the occupants eye’s stand out against the backdrop. Diplomas. Lists of achievements. Medical forms.

“These are all the people who I’m sending to die.” The President looks up from the file to Phillip. He’s remained in place but has unconsciously leant forward in able to catch a glimpse at the precious papers in front of his President. He catches himself and leans away again clearing his throat. 

“Madam President?”

“Every person depicted by the folders in this box are getting sent into space in an effort to find a habitable planet. Every person in these files has been hand selected by myself and my advisors. They are all masters in their fields and the hope is that that mastery will save us all.”

Phillip swallows hard. “But what about the-”

“The space stations?” The President finishes for him. “Yes, those are being built too. By some of the people named in these folders in fact. But do you truly believe the human race can survive in cramped boxes for the rest of our existence?”

“I don’t know Madam President.” 

“No.” The President sighs heavily and falls back into her chair. “The answer is no, Phillip. These people here.” She points to the box. “They believe in more than just surviving and they have all volunteered to prove that we are capable of more than just that. They want more than the human race to waste away in the void.” She closes the file and slides it to her security officer, nodding at him to take a look for himself. He lifts the folder, eyes going wide before turning to the President for more explanation. 

“I asked for these folders because in a matter of years this could be all that exists of them. These people who believe in our future. I’m placing these in a vault full of proof of humankind's existence, our world's history. That way if we all burn up on this forsaken planet, or up in the stars, someone or something might come across this box full of heroes and know that they existed.” The President reaches out for the return of the folder. “That they believed in something more than just surviving.” 

She replaces the band around the folder labeled Clarke A. Griffin M.D. and gently places it back in the box before replacing the lid. “Thank you for indulging me, Phillip. You may go.”

“Of course Madam President.”

“Please.” The President waves the mans formality away. “It’s the end of the world. Call me Abby.”

  
  


**Lieutenant Commander Alexandria R. Woods**

They never tell you how hot it gets in these things. Lexa breathes deeply of the humid air in an attempt to collect as much oxygen in her lungs as she can. She could try for the oxygen mask attached under her console but it’s too far into her flight and is in too much of a precarious situation to risk her attention elsewhere. 

“Woods.” The radio crackles. “Woods you better get your ass in gear and get this shit landed.” 

Lexa ignores the voice in her ear in favor of examining her instruments. All clear. She had spent the last 5 hours setting up the perfect approach. In space the most minute of adjustment could send you wildly off course and the need to be set for an approach hours before a landing was crucial. Being set off course at 18,000 miles per hour can be catastrophic if not given the proper time and skill to correct. Of course they slow the ship before entering atmosphere(if there is any) but a clean shot gives the mission the highest chance of success. And Lexa can not fail. 

Sweat drips into Lexa’s eyes, burning them in the process but she doesn’t dare move her hands from her joysticks. Instead she does her best to blink the burn away. “Woods.” The voice eggs her on. “You’ve got this Woods.” 

Lexa growls into her mouthpiece as she makes the final descent. 

“Watch your speed Woods.” 

Eyes flitting to her instruments for what felt like and could possibly be the millionth time that flight, Lexa quickly flips a switch, initiating a thruster. “Are you fucking kidding me, Woods!? That’s your answer? This isn’t your parents Cadillac. You can’t just toss this ship in reverse.” 

Lexa frantically reaches for various switches covering the massive control panel in front and around her before replacing her hands on the joysticks. “We’re dead. You just killed all of us.”

The sticks in Lexa’s hands stiffen up, battling her and straining her already sore muscles. The cabin starts to shake violently. Alarms start to blare. Lights start to flash. Something Lexa never fully understood. She’s a pilot. She knows when she’s about to crash. She doesn’t need some blaring alarm in her ear causing panic when what she really needs is to focus. 

“Woods!” The voice yells angrily in her ear. “Correct it Woods! Get us on the fucking ground Woods, you piece of shit!” Lexa locks her jaw and prepares for the inevitable. She closes her eyes as she violently shakes in her seat, the buckles barley keeping her in place. “Woods!” The voice yells once more before the violence around her ends suddenly and she is enveloped in total darkness. 

“Fuck!” Lexa lashes out at the screen in front of her, hitting it with her fist before she yanks the earpiece out of her ear, fisting it. Bright light shocks her system as the back of the flight simulator hatch opens to reveal her co-pilot standing hands on hips in disappointment. The gush of fresh air doesn’t even feel as relieving as she knows it should. Instead Lexa just feels furious. 

“What the fuck was that, Woods?”

Lexa unhooks herself from the flight seat as quickly as she can, grinding her jaw in her desperation to swallow her angry retort and crawls over the center console in order to exit the simulator. 

“Six hours, Woods.” Her co-pilot states as she follows Lexa’s fiery exit. “That’s six hours of our time you wasted to pull a stupid fucking stunt.” Lexa makes for the double doors leading into a long, sterile hallway. Her rapid footsteps ring through the white walls, an angry beat, before her co-pilots steps are added to them, ruining the even sound and instead creating a cacophony of heavy footsteps. 

“Where are you going, Woods!?” A strong hand grips Lexa’s bicep and spins her back round. “This isn’t the Navy, Woods. You can’t pull a risky move like that, flash a charming smile, and get fucked by a skirt at the bar later that night. This is EVERYTHING. THIS. IS. EVERYTHING.” 

Lexa doesn’t need her co-pilot to remind her of how important their mission is. That if she can’t figure out how to fly that ship,fly that shit alone no less, and if she can’t safely deliver it’s passengers, the real mission can’t even begin. Lexa tries to leave again only to be pulled back once again.

“Don’t you fucking get it!?” 

She breaks and Lexa knows she shouldn’t let her temper get the best of her, especially against her best friend and co-pilot. But she does and Lieutenant Anya Stone takes a hard hit to the chin as a consequence. Anya falls hard on her ass on the linoleum floor, blood already streaming down her split lip as she looks up wide eyed at her best friend. “Of course I fucking get it, Anya!” Lexa yells. Her voice, strong and loud, reverberates in the hall, hurting both their ear drums. “I don’t need you fucking yelling in my ear every fucking second about how I can’t do this! I have to be able to do it. They chose me, An! Me.” Lexa throws the earpiece at her friend and co-pilot on the floor. “I don’t care if I fail a thousand hours of sims if it gets us to where we need to be and it makes me the better pilot for it!” 

Anya stares up at Lexa still dumbstruck. 

“I’m sorry about the hit.” Lexa adds. She doesn’ mean it though. Right now she’s still furious at herself for failing again and her friend for pushing her buttons, to care. Lexa knows she’ll feel sorry in a few hours after she’s gotten to go on a run, get a drink, and yeah, maybe fuck somebody. She’ll feel guilty for Anya when she lies in bed, spent, next to a warm body, call up her friend and ask for forgiveness. Because that’s how Lexa operates. She is raw power and skill, self assured and fast thinking, calculating with her recklessness and always ends up on top. She always has and always will. It’s what got her here and it’s what is going to save the human race. 

Lexa doesn’t offer any parting words as she turns from her bleeding friend on the floor and makes her way to the exit, flinging the door open and escaping into some of the last daylight she might ever feel on her face. 

  
  


**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

Clarke eyes the pilot sitting on the exam table opposite her. She’s beautiful. Even with blood covering the bottom half of her face, Clarke can still see the high cheekbones and bright hazel eyes, button nose and shapely mouth. Clarke glances down at the chart in her hands to remind herself of this beautiful specimens name, Lieutenant Anya M. Stone. 

“Well Lieutenant Stone,” Clarke says as she reaches for some gauze to dampen with saline. “Doesn’t look like you need stitches. I do however suggest some ice and a few ibuprofen when you get home.” She starts wiping at the dried blood. “Plenty of water.” She adds as she catches the pilots eye, “People are never drinking enough water. At LEAST half your weight in ounces a day.” Clarke really hates to hear people talk about how little water they drink like it’s something endearing or cute. Soon enough people will be begging for the scarce liquid. 

Clarke rolls over to the bin to dispose of her gloves and the bloodied gauze. She inspects her piss poor attempt to clean up the woman. “It’s not perfect but you don’t look like you just took a bite out of someone's face anymore.” She jokes. The pilot however does not seem impressed. Instead she simply stands and moves to the small sink in the corner and begins to rinse her face. “Oh that’s…” Clarke starts but Lieutenant Stone pays her no mind, “not sterile.” Clarke finishes with a sigh. 

The injured woman grabs for some paper towels to dry her face once she’s content with her washing while Clarke watches, Raven’s words said earlier that day ringing in her ears.  _ Better get some ass now before we’re frozen in time for god knows how long. We’re gonna wake up dryer than the Sahara with nothing to quench our delightful little thirst.  _ Fuck it. Clarke thinks as she continues to watch the beautiful soldier. No harm in striking out, right? 

“So uhh. What happened anyway?” Clarke asks in a lame attempt at conversation. 

“My asshole friend that’s what.” Anya replies curtly. “The fucker wasted a perfect sim to try a flashy trick and ended up failing the mission. She got mad when I called her out on her bullshit. Self righteous prick.”

“Oh wow.” Clarke responds shocked by the story. “Are you sure they’re your friend if they treat you like that?”

“Yeah.” Anya waves off as she leans against the sink counter. “She’s an asshole but she’s amazing at what she does. Plus she’s saved my life more times than I can count.” The woman’s voice softens. “The bitch is the closest thing to family I have.” 

“Hmm.” Clarke thinks on that. “Must feel pretty epic to be going on this mission together then.” 

“Epic?” The pilot responds and scoffs. “More like idiotic.”

“Then why?” 

“Why am I here?”

“Yeah.” Clarke asks. Standing to get closer to the intriguing woman. 

“My dumb ass friend volunteers for this shit show and expects me to stay here while she can go play hero.” The pilot shrugs her shoulders. “I can’t let her go kill herself all on her own. Plus she’s shit without me.” She adds with a charming smile aimed at Clarke. 

“Loyal.” Clarke says. 

“Yeah or stupid.” Anya retorts. 

“Could be both.” 

The lieutenant laughs and takes a step closer to the doctor. “Are you flirting with me Doctor Griffin?” 

“Doctors can’t flirt with their patients Lieutenant.” 

“But can they fuck them?” 

Clarke openly gapes at the woman's bold response and before she can come up with a reply a swift knock raps on the exam room door alerting Clarke of how close she had actually gotten to her patient. “Come in.” Clarke calls, her voice noticeably raspier than it was a moment before as she puts space between the Lieutenant and herself. 

The door opens and an impossibly gorgeous brunette with piercing green eyes enters her exam room dressed similarly to Anya in navy blue slacks and a white t-shirt, although this one isn’t covered in blood. “Anya.” The brunette says in a low voice, smooth and confident, as she approaches her friend. “Anya, I’m sor-” 

Before the brunette can finish her apology Lieutenant Stone throws her fist into her face and drops the lithe woman onto the floor. Clarke hears the crack of the brunettes nose on impact and gasps in shock. 

“Jesus fuck, Anya!” The brunette cries through the hands cupping her now bleeding nose. “I came to apologize.” 

“Fuck your apologies.” Anya says coldly as she steps over the bleeding woman on the floor and leaves the exam room, flinging open the door to knock against the back of the woman on the floor before slamming it behind her. Green eyes squeeze shut in pain and the woman hisses as she gingerly stands from the floor. 

“You must be the dumb ass friend.” Clarke says as she eyes the woman in front of her. She is shorter than Lieutenant Stone by a couple inches with a sharp jawline, green eyes, and wild brown curls pulled into a military standard bun. A full bottom lip shows from under the hand still holding a bleeding nose.

Green eyes focus on Clarke’s then and it’s like the woman is just now noticing her. She grunts and moves to the sink, spitting blood and starting to rinse her mouth.  _ These two really are two peas in a pod. _ The doctor thinks as she watches the soldier. 

“I’m gonna need you to sit on the exam table so I can take a look at that nose. Lieutenant Stone cracked you pretty good there.” Clarke says. The woman may be an asshole but Clarke is still a doctor and has her own moral code to follow. 

“I’m fine.” The woman huffs as she moves from the sink and towards the exit. 

“No.” Clarke says with as much authority as she can muster. “I heard that crack.” She grabs the soldier by the elbow and re-directs her to the exam table. “You’re nose could very well be broken and I’m going to need you to fill out an incident report. As much as you probably deserved that, I can’t have my office turn into a MMA ring.”

The brunette scoffs at Clarke as she sits rather ungracefully on the table. “Happy?” She says as she crosses her arms in defiance, letting the blood now flow freely from her face and down her front. 

“Wow.” Clarke states as she turns to collect the supplies she’ll need. “You really are an asshole.” 

“How am I the asshole when I came to apologize?” The brunette asks gruffly. 

Clarke turns back to the bleeding woman setting her tray of supplies next to her while she inspects the damage. “You’re the asshole because you threw the first punch.” She reaches out with a gloved hand to tilt the woman’s face and hears a sharp intake of breath. “Does it hurt to turn your neck?” 

“You try getting sucker punched in the nose by a 5’9 Navel Boxer and tell me if everything doesn’t hurt after that.” 

“Oh she’s funny.” Clarke states dryly as she tests the woman’s neck for injury before moving forward. Green eyes simply look up at Clarke’s face and watch blue eyes dart back and forward in concentration. 

“What’s your name, soldier?” Clarke asks as she starts packing the brunettes nose. 

The brunette hisses in pain before answering nasally, “Lieutenant Commander Lexa Woods.” 

“Okay, Lieutenant Commander Lexa Woods.” Clarke says as she pulls off her gloves. “Good news is you’re face isn’t too broken. That nose of yours should heal fine. Let me go grab a cold compress and your file and then I’ll set you loose on the world.” 

Lexa just shrugs and lays back on the table to wait, letting out a heavy sigh. 

When Clarke gets back to her exam room, compress and file in hand, the soldier is nowhere to be seen. “Asshole.” Clarke huffs as she moves to clean the room. 

  
  


**Lieutenant Anya M. Stone**

Anya’a on her third beer by the time she hears the apartment door open and close, followed by the sound of booted footsteps making their way through the hall into the kitchen. Anya hears the fridge open and the clanking of bottles and the condiments rattle in the fridge’s door as it’s closed forcefully. Anya downs what’s left in her bottle, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the back of the couch. The couch shakes from a body depositing itself heavily next to Anya with a forceful sigh. Without opening her eyes, Anya addresses her unwelcome company. “You better have at least brought me a refill if you’re going to sit and guzzle MY beer after decking me in the face.” 

“I’d say we’re pretty even given the way both our faces look right now.” Lexa says, cracking open her beer and pressing another cold bottle against Anya’s swollen lip. 

“Aye, fuck!” Anya hisses and snatches the extra beer from Lexa’s hand, finally opening her eyes and inspecting the damage she had inflicted on the woman sitting next to her. “That fucking hurts you know.” 

“Why do you think I did it?” Lexa grins cheekily back before leaning fully back into the couch and taking a long swig from her bottle. “I think you broke my fucking neck, An.”

“Yeah, well you deserve it. I was about to get that doctors number.” 

“Whatever you say, An.” Lexa waves Anya off in favor of leaning her head back against the couch and gingerly holding her own cold beer against the side of her nose. There’s a beat of calm silence then where Anya looks over her bloodied friend. 

Sure, she may have swung at Lexa a bit harder than necessary, but they weren’t on the playground anymore, or fooling around in Lexa's back yard on the trampoline, or chasing each other on the track in college. They were in the midst of trying to save all of humanity. Lexa was a goddamn Commander and still couldn’t seem to shake her cocky attitude. Lexa was always the best so effortlessly and with a cocky smile to boot. It drove Anya up a wall. Anya shakes her head, inwardly scoffing at all the times Lexa had come out on top , cocky grin on her face, her eyes alight with adrenaline, and the energy to accomplish her next outlandish goal. And Lexa did. From doing flips off their swings as children to becoming the best damn pilot in the naval fleet. And Anya was always there, stumbling after Lexa in her desire to keep up with the tireless storm of a woman.

“I’m sorry, Anya.” 

Anya is snapped out of her thoughts by her friends voice. “Sure you are, Lex.” She responds as she takes another drink and turns towards the disheveled brunette. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lexa asks as she sits straighter in an attempt to even out their height difference and gain a physical position of authority. 

“What I mean,” Anya starts as she matches Lexa’s posture, effectively using her extra inches of height to stomp out Lexa’s try at posturing, “is that you’re only sorry you fucked up the sim. You’re sorry for yourself that you didn’t get to rub my nose in your superiority again.” 

Lexa jerks away from her like Anya had slapped her. “Is that really what you think of me?” Anya does nothing to confirm or deny Lexa’s question and instead stares back into hurt green eyes with as little emotion as possible. Lexa deflates momentarily before sucking in air audibly and standing quickly from the couch, slamming her beer on the coffee table on her way up. “That’s fucking great, Anya.” Lexa’s voice raises in anger and she clenches her fists. “If that’s what you think of me why the fuck have you even stuck around all these years, huh?” 

And Anya knows she shouldn’t say it, knows it’s petty of her and cruel, knows it’s not even true. But she is exhausted and her face hurts and she is three beers deep and she wishes more than anything that her and Lexa where back in their apartment on the coast. On leave drinking beer and playing cards but they aren’t because the world is ending and the fate of the human race is on their shoulders and no matter how badly Anya wants to believe that Lexa will come through on top like she always has, she’s not sure anymore and it scares her. And she’s mad at her best friend for letting her get to that point in the first place. So she says the lie that she knows will hurt her best friend the most. “Because no one else will.” 

Anya regrets the words immediately but there’s no point in trying to redact them when she notes the change in Lexa’s face. All Anya can do is cringe at the sound of Lexa’s grinding teeth and look sheepishly up at watery green eyes. Lexa straightens her back and smooths the front of her bloody t with her hands before clearing her throat and looking at Anya with lifeless eyes. “I expect your presence at the simulator at 0600 hours, Lieutenant.” With that Lexa turns on her heel to grab her leather jacket on her way to the front door. 

“Lex…” Anya calls out softly to her friend in an attempt of a truce but only hears the sound of the front door softly clicking shut in response. “Fuck!” Anya yells in frustration as she throws her half empty bottle across the room. She reaches for Lexa’s unfinished bottle in front of her and downs it on her way to the kitchen on the hunt for something stronger than cheap beer. 

**Clarke A. Griffin M.D. **

Clarke pushes her way into the only bar in the little town just outside of base. Raven would describe the place as a gem; with wood paneling covering every surface, greasy polyurethaned wood tables, dusty relics on overcrowded shelves lining the walls, duct taped tares in the short, blackened red carpet and cigarette smoke drifting in layers around the place. Guns and Roses playing from the jukebox, neon beer signs and decorative signs citing conservative beliefs covering all the available space behind the bar. And you can’t forget all the old men who all turn in unison to stare as soon as someone new walks into the dimly lit bar, sporting overgrown, tobacco stained beards. Clarke thinks it’s a health hazard. 

She gives a terse nod to the old timer she plops down next to at the bar. Clarke’s found that staring old men usually only take a dirty look or a curt form of acknowledgement for them to stop staring and get back to their drinks. She sighs as she sinks fully onto her stool and makes eye contact with the bartender, he throws his towel down on the bar and makes his way over, taking Clarke’s order and moving away to grab her drink. He unceremoniously drops Clarke’s shot of whiskey and beer in front of her before returning to his conversation with the regulars. 

Clarke downs her shot of whiskey immediately and chases it with a chug of beer before she shakes her arms out beside her and leans heavily on the bar in front of her. Today sucked. She had failed miserably at flirting with Lieutenant Stone, had to disinfect her exam room top to bottom, and had to deal with her superiors blaming her for the “incident” she had to report after being ditched to handle it by herself by the aggravatingly beautiful Lieutenant Commander. Plus she had been accused of only having her position because of her mother’s current status of President. Clarke knew she deserves her title, had labored through years of intense medical training to be where she was now, but that didn’t make the accusations hurt any less. “Mother fuckers.” She mumbles under her breath as she gestures to the bartender for another shot of the well and bids her time taking another long drink from her beer. 

“You’re in my seat.” A familiar voice claims from over Clarke’s shoulder. 

Clarke twists to look into green eyes hazed over with alcohol. “I didn’t see you name on it.” Clarke retorts before turning back to nod thankfully at the bartender when he drops another shot glass full in front of her. 

“Well when you’re an adult you usually don’t need name tags to know where you’re sitting. That and I was having a pleasant conversation with Gary here about…” Lexa gestures towards the man on Clarke’s left to fill in the blank, which he does with a displeased huff. 

“Female reproductive rights.”

Lexa snaps her fingers and grins cheekily at both Clarke and Gary. “Ahhh! That’s right. Very riveting stuff, right Gary?” 

Gary rolls his eyes and turns his back to both Clarke and Lexa, mumbling into his beer. Lexa just shrugs and turns back to Clarke. “I’d like to think you can change some people’s perspective with a civil conversation but sometimes I think Anya’s right. We’re just gonna have to wait for all the old fuckers to die off before things will get better.” 

“Jesus!” Clarke hisses at Lexa as she replies under her breath. “You can’t say that shit here. You’re going to get yourself shot.” Clarke pointedly nods towards a pro gun poster hanging by the bathrooms. 

“It’s not like anyone would fucking miss me.” Lexa says as she thrusts her arm past Clarke’s face to wave over the bartender. 

“Says the woman in charge of maneuvering numerous space crafts, ultimately deciding the fate of mankind.” Clarke retorts and shoves Lexa’s arm away. 

Lexa shrugs again and points to Clarke’s empty shot glass, then holds up two fingers signalling to the bartender. “I’m easily replaceable Dr. Griffin.” 

“Well, lucky for us then.” Clarke responds. 

“Yes.” Lexa says dryly. “Lucky you.” 

Clarke rolls her eyes and tries to focus on her beer, even pulling out her phone to text Raven, but Lexa’s presence behind her is too distracting and she gives up the idea of ignoring the brunette once the bartender hands over two more shots. Lexa pushes one to Clarke and takes the other for herself, downing it before saying, “For the antics in your office today.” 

“Antics?” Clarke says rhetorically. “I had to explain to the chief of staff why I couldn’t take any patients because I was too busy cleaning up the mess you and your friend made in my exam room. Not only did I have my ass chewed for that, but I had to explain why I didn’t immediately report you to the MP’s.” 

“Why didn’t you?” Lexa asks. Leveling a questioning gaze at Clarke, her stoic face revealing nothing to Clarke. 

“Because I’m an idiot.” Clarke answers over her shoulder before downing the shot with a grimace. 

“You’re still in my seat.” 

“I don’t care.” Clarke calls back over the loud music. Hungry Heart is playing and Clarke actually likes this song and tries to focus on the lyrics instead of the tingling she feels run up her spine caused by the soldier’s eyes raking over her form. 

“Lieutenant Stone said she was going to get your number. Is that true?” Lexa asks. 

“Probably.” Clarke says matter of factly as she turns in her chair. “Why do you care?”

Lexa answers immediately, confidently. “‘Cause you’re not her type.” 

Clarke’s mouth falls open at the blunt statement and turns back to the bar in order to stop herself from lashing out at the brash woman behind her. She feels the heat of Lexa’s breath on her ear before the brunette whispers, “You’re my type.” 

The gasp that leaves Clarke’s mouth is totally involuntary and she feels her back straighten awkwardly as she absorbs the information. She turns slowly in her stool to fully face Lexa in all her glory. Still in her bloody shirt from earlier but covered in a leather jacket, her hair now lying in soft waves around her face and a smirk on her lips. Lexa's eyes have the early signs of bruising underneath them and there's a small cut on the bridge of her nose. Even in her roughed up state, Lexa's gorgeous and it infuriates Clarke even more. Clarke stands to level Lexa with her meanest glare. “Fuck. You.” 

Clarke shoves Lexa out of her way as she strides quickly for the exit without looking back. She forcefully flings open the door and breathes deeply of the cool night air, settling her nerves. Clarke pushes the image of anguished green eyes from her mind as she dials Raven’s number. 


	2. Chapter 2

** Lieutenant Commander Alexandria R. Woods **   
** -6 months later- **

The atmosphere around Lexa is electric, there are streamers hanging off of computers whose screens probably hadn’t been turned off in years and criss-crossing the head space of anyone over the height of six feet. She can’t help but chuckle at her taller colleagues stooping in conversation, punch cups in hand and triumphant faced, paper streamers getting caught up in their hair. Aerospace engineering had successfully tested the rocket, Polaris, that would propel Lexa and over 50 other persons into space. They would meet the station waiting for them, link up and wait for the next set of personnel to be shot up in another duplicate ship to connect as well. That would complete the final step before just over 100 bodies are sent into the void in search of a new home planet.

Lexa knows she should feel elated. Excited to be that much closer to getting off this burning planet and finally perform her part of the act. One she had been training for technically just under a year but what felt more like her entire life. No, in place of elation Lexa feels pure panic. She grips her paper cup full of boxed wine to the point of crumpling it in her fist and is having a hard time nodding along enthusiastically to the pretty atmospheric scientist, Harper. All she can feel is her jaw aching from it’s constant clench, the line of sweat slowly making its way down the middle of her spine, and her heartbeats racing. Lexa feels like she is already free floating in space without any tethers and she can’t pinpoint why she is feeling this way.

They are now less than 2 months out and after Lexa and Anya’s scuffle during simulation training, Lexa hasn’t failed a landing since and had even trained Anya to do the same as well as two more seasoned astronauts that will be on the mission. Once Lexa had learned the tricks of piloting a delicate, bulky and misshapen spacecraft, transferring that information on to other pilots was rather easy. It was a bit awkward when she was training her co-pilot after their fight, what with the sudden change in what Lexa had always thought was an easy relationship into a sort of muted coexistence, but Anya had excelled and was only 2nd to Lexa in number of successful simulations. The words her co-pilot had said in anger shone too true and Lexa couldn’t bare to look Anya in the eyes after that. The guilt of someone she loved feeling the need to stay by her side out of pity had her stomach in knots. Lexa had decided to loosen her grip on her old friend in an attempt to give Anya the space to leave without any guilt herself. So far Anya had remained at her side, however awkward and strained and Lexa was thankful for it.

“Hey are you ok?” Lexa is shaken from her thoughts by Harper waving her hand in front of Lexa’s vision.

“Oh, yes, sorry. Continue.” Lexa blinks heavily and shakes her head trying to re-ground herself.

“Uhm, but Woods... your drink.” Harper’s nose scrunches awkwardly as she nods down to Lexa’s hand gripping her drink.

“Oh.” Lexa states as she realizes she is no longer holding a cup of wine but a wad of stiff paper with its once contents dripping down to her elbow, she’s standing in a puddle of red.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Harper asks as she tries to lay comforting hands on Lexa.

“Don’t touch me.” Lexa says sternly as she jumps back from the unwanted touch. “I’m fine.”

Harper holds her hands up in a mollifying gesture and looks on with worried eyes. “You kinda zoned out on me for a while, are you sure you’re-”

“Lexa.” Anya calls out from a few conversations away before moving quickly to Lexa’s side. “Are you ok, Lex?” Anya nods to Harper and leads Lexa out of the throng of people by her elbow while speaking quietly. “And don’t you fucking lie to me, I watched the entire thing so you better be straight with me.”

In a different time Lexa would have run with the punny material Anya just spoon fed her but instead says, “I’m fine Lieutenant Stone, and it’s Lieutenant Commander Woods when we are on duty.”

“Oh cut the crap, Lieutenant Commander Tight Ass.” Anya hisses back. “You’ve been a fucking mess lately and I know part of it is my fault and I’m sorry ok. It was a fucked up thing to say and I didn’t mean it.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, “You meant it, An.”

Anya starts to shake her head but Lexa cuts her off with a thrown up hand. “And it’s fine. It’s true and I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you had to stick around for me. But this isn’t that and I’m fine. Just please, go and enjoy yourself. I’ll leave if I’m making people uncomfortable.”

“You don’t get it.” Anya sighs heavily and her hazel eyes are shining like she is holding back tears. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m not letting you leave this place alone after watching you go all Hulk over there.”

“It was a paper cup, Anya, hardly any force is needed to crush one.”

“I’m not talking about you’re strength. I’m talking about how the person I was watching talk to Harper was not Lexa. Not the one I know.”

Lexa huffs and pulls away from Anya’s grasp. “Then I think the more apt comparison would have been Jekyll and Hyde.”

“Jesus, Lexa.” Anya throws her hands up in exasperation. “You want to go have a panic attack in the middle of a group of people, be my guest.”

“I wasn’t having a panic attack!” Lexa nearly yells in frustration. “I zoned out, ok?!” Lexa lowers her voice when she spots several persons close bye eyeing them suspiciously. “Let me just go clean up my mess and get another drink and I promise I’ll talk to you the whole rest of the fucking night. If you will please just drop it?”

Lexa doesn’t beg and she’s not sure when she decided reverting to it would help any argument with Anya, but surprisingly her friend deflates slightly and nods her head slowly as if deep in thought. “Fine.”

“Thank fuck.” Lexa sighs and moves to find something to clean up her mess before being pulled back to Anya by her wrist.

“But…”

“Oh my god, Anya. But what?!” Lexa pulls testingly on her wrist only for it to be squeezed almost painfully in return.

“You stop avoiding me back at home and actually look me in the eye and speak to me.”

“I haven’t been avoi-”

“Yes you have.” Anya stands firm.

Lexa allows several beats of silence, hoping to let Anya sweat it out for a bit before answering. “Fine.”

“Good.” Anya softly smiles and releases her grip of Lexa. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Oh, Anya.” Lexa chides in an attempt to lighten the mood. She lets a cheeky grin slide onto her features. “Don’t get soft on me now. We’re about to save the human race, don’t you remember? Or hasn’t anyone told you? Shit’s fucked.”

“Stop.” Anya says dryly as she shoves Lexa back into the thick of the celebrations. “Clean up your mess and get drunk with me.”

** Clarke A. Griffin M.D. **

Clarke walks into the impromptu celebration after a long day of collecting samples from personnel set to take flight in just over two months time. A cup of cheap alcohol never sounds more appealing than when you just spent the last 16 hours collecting fecal and urine specimens. Clarke shakes her head disbelievingly at the literal pounds of shit she handled today. Being a physician, Clarke understands and respects the amount of information to be gleaned from something people care less about and nine times out of ten do their best to forget is even a part of their fully functioning human body. But the fact of the matter is Clarke has still spent her day in the presence of massive amounts of shit and is ready for a fucking drink.

“Anya!” She calls through the throng of half drunk scientist and military personnel. She thinks the level of nerdiness this party holds may just out-nerd her study session parties in college. A high bar to beat considering Clarke’s “parties” consisted of passing out alongside fellow classmates amongst course books and bags of chips while reality t.v. played off a laptop set on the coffee table.

Anya’s mop of dirty blonde hair bounces as she leans almost comically around whoever she’s talking to to wave Clarke over. Their unexpected friendship that blossomed after Clarke’s failed attempt to flirt with the soldier was pleasantly surprising, especially when Anya turned up at her office a week after “the incident” with a cup of coffee, apology, and an offer to go grab some lunch at the hospital cafeteria together. They had spent the next forty minutes feeling each other out and both landed on the same conclusion at the end of it, however lovely and attractive they thought the other person was, they could never go beyond friendship.

Luckily both of them embraced that knowledge and neither was offended at what could have easily been mistaken as rejection. The two had bonded quickly over conversations of the bull headed Lieutenant Commander Woods and Clarke was more than happy to spend the time Anya usually set aside to spend time with her roommate until recently bonding over how infuriating the woman could be. Mostly Clarke just listened while Anya griped and then eventually worried over her best friend.

“Griffin!” Anya calls joyfully as she bridged the gap between them once Clarke got closer, grabbing her by her forearm and pulling her into the circle of conversationalists. “Glad you could grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Stone.” Clarke retorts as she pushes her friend off of her. “I got out of the clinic as quickly as I could today. You try prepping fecal samples for testing sun up to sun down, see how long you want to stick around for.”

“Ohhhh, yeah no thanks.” Cringes Anya as she grabs the fullest cup of the group from unsuspecting hands and shoves it into Clarke’s. “I’d much rather be a hot shot pilot with said doctors tripping over themselves to get at me.”

Clarke throws her head back in laughter before she hands the cup back to its grateful owner in favor of finding her own. “In your dreams Soldier. I’m gonna go find a drink.”

***

When Clarke gets back to the group with her own drink in hand she’s surprised to find Lieutenant Commander Woods awkwardly shuffling her feet next to Anya. Back straight and jaw clenched, the woman looks like she’s doing anything but enjoying herself. The brunette catches Clarke’s eyes long enough to give her a curt nod before hiding her green eyes behind a tilted paper cup. Clarke looks curiously to Anya for any hint of why the estranged friend is suddenly back on friendly terms only to get a mouthed, “later”, in response. Clarke does her best to join in the conversation and feign excitement of the impending journey but can’t seem to shake the dread that chills her bones or the green eyes that stray to Clarke’s own person.

It’s two paper cups of vodka and whatever carbonated drink that was available on the table later that Clarke is found out for not being able to actually focus on the groups conversation. She looks up from toeing a piece of abandoned streamer on the floor to multiple sets of eyes on her.

“Huh?” She asks un-eloquently.

“I was just saying I’m surprised your mother hasn’t pulled you from the expedition and all. Seeing as you’re her baby girl.” Lieutenant Commander Woods drawls before she takes a sip from her drink. Clarke feels herself simultaneously pale and blush at the soldiers villainous spark in her gaze as she plants Clarke with darkened green eyes.

Clarke clears her throat in order to gain control of her sudden uptick in emotions. She pushes back images of tackling the offending woman heavily to the floor and instead recites the words she’s been saying since her mother first took office.

“My mothers position has no effect on my professional life. The only role she has in MY decisions is as a supportive mother.” Clarke downs the remainder of her drink after her words and squares her shoulders expecting a rebuttal. Lexa of course obliges.

“I’m not asking if your mother supports your work. What I’m asking is, couldn’t she just snap her fingers and have you on the first jet back home? You’d be enjoying evening desert in the white house’s kitchen without having to blink an eye. And at the end of the day, you would look like the humanitarian daughter without actually having to risk your life.” Lexa ends her statement by drawing her hands behind her back and pinning Clarke with an unaffected stare.

“Hmm. It’s funny how you think that my mother has any say in my life when I’m a thirty-two year old woman, Lieutenant Woods.”

“Lieutenant Commander.” The soldier corrects as she takes a menacingly step closer.

“Right.” Clarke says dryly before continuing. “Seeing how title is so important to you, It's easy to see that looking past that would be hard for you. Just because my mother holds the title of president, doesn’t mean she goes about doing whatever she wants. She holds herself to the same standards she would hold any respectful president to.”

  
“What? And a respectful president can’t pull their daughter from a program because they also happen to be a concerned parent?”

“When you’re a child.” Clarke growls. “Do I look like a child to you, Commander?”

“No.” Lexa states as she drags her gaze down the length of Clarke’s body. “You are most definitely a woman.”

Clarke hates that the woman’s gaze and words render her speechless. Hates that in the past few moments the two had managed to push into each others space in an attempt of showmanship that they were nearly nose to nose. And Clarke especially hated that the feeling of Lexa’s hot breath hitting her face made her flushed skin feel even hotter. Left speechless at Lexas’s bold statement, Clarke fits the woman with her meanest glare.

“And it’s Lieutenant Commander, Dr. Griffin.” Lexa corrects as she backs away, giving Clarke the space to breathe again.

“Jesus, Lex.” Anya cuts in too late. “Give the woman a break. So her mom’s the president? Clarke’s paid her do’s and has gotten zero special treatment. She deserves to be where she’s at.”

Clarke smiles softly at her friend jumping in to try and rescue her from Lexa’s scrutiny.

“I mean, the woman was elbow deep in shit all day today. I don’t envy her.” Anya’s tacked on comment eases the tension of the group enough to earn some chuckles but Clarke is stuck staring at Lexa’s sculpted eyebrow raising at the comment.

“Whatever you say.” Lexa says as she moves away to get another drink.

The group dispenses gratefully after the awkward moment, leaving Clarke alone with Anya.

“Jesus Christ, Anya.” Clarke grumbles as she finishes her drink and reaches for Anya’s to polish off. “What the fuck is her problem?”

Anya hands off her drink with no struggle, “She’s going through a hard time right now, ok? Give her some slack.”

“Give…?” Clarke stumbles through her words in bafflement. “Give her a break!? She was the one being a total dick.”

“Yeah well she does that when she’s going through something.”

“Why are you defending her?”

  
“Because she’s my family.” Anya states simply and quietly. “We're all we have and yeah Lexa needs to get her shit together and I know she wants to but something is bothering her and I can’t get it out of her and well... I was actually going to ask you for help on that.”

“Help? With your asshole friend?” It seems Clarke’s bafflement isn’t even close to ending.

“Well you’re a doctor. Our doctor.” Anya offers.

“Unfortunately.” Clarke nods.

“I’m pretty sure she’s having some pretty bad anxiety about the mission and it’s not like she’s had an easy time of it up to this point either.” Anya shyly continues. “I’m pretty sure she’s been on the brink of a panic attack all night.”

“What are you trying to say, Anya?”

“Will you help her?”

“Help her?”

“Yeah, you know, doctor her,” Anya waggles her fingers around Clarke like she’s performing a cheap magic trick. “Be a medical professional trained to talk to people with depression and shit.”

“Ok. First of all.” Clarke smacks the offending fingers away from her. “Put the jazz hands away. And second, that is not my field of expertise. I’m no head doctor. I do cuts and breaks and tears and holes. Not the complex workings of the human psyche.”

“Can’t you at least give her a check-up? Tell her she’s going to die from ulcers or something if she doesn’t deal with her shit?”

“And you want me to be the one to do this? After that little display of...of...assholery?” Clarke questions.

“Nice.”

“Thank you.”

“And yes.” Anya answers. “She’ll listen to you. She respects you.”

“That little show we just put on didn’t feel like respect, An.”

“No but you’re earning it.” Says Anya.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Doctor Griffin, I’ve never seen anyone go toe to toe with Lexa like that and not see them get knocked on their ass.”

Clarke can only roll her eyes at her friend before stomping away to find some much needed refills.

Clarke makes her way to the table of drinks with her and Anya’s empty cups, adding considerably less soda and more vodka than her previous drinks.

“Rough night?”

Clarke hears the familiar voice and turns to her right to see Lexa smirking as she eyes the bottle of liquor in Clarke’s hand.

“You could say that.” Clarke huffs as she puts the bottle down forcefully on the table. “I’ve been having to deal with a real asshole and I just can’t seem to get them to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Hmm.” Lexa feigns thoughtfulness. “Seems pretty fitting to deal with an asshole when you’ve been handling shit all day.”

Clarke can only stare on in shock.

“Please tell me you washed your hands before reaching into the bags of ice for those.” Lexa points to the drinks in front of Clarke. “If you did that I can let go of the fact that you’re double fisting over here.”

“I am not double fisting!” Clarke hisses as she grabs the drinks and turns away from the infuriating woman and moves to find Anya.

“But did you wash your hands?” Lexa calls after her and Clarke wants nothing more than to melt into the floor from all the suspicious stares she is receiving from the surrounding party goers. She rounds on Lexa who had been trailing after her.

“What is your fucking problem?” Clarke asks. “What did I ever do to you that makes you want to fucking torture me?”

At Clarke’s questioning the Lieutenant Commander shrugs her shoulders and smiles back. If it wasn’t for Clarke’s growing hatred of the woman in front of her she would have been able to fully admire the first smile she had ever seen the serious soldier wear, and damn was that a nice smile. Rosy plump lips, straight white teeth, a hint of a tongue being bit down on to hide a chuckle. “I guess it’s just a fun pastime for me.”

“Fun?” Clarke asks. “You like taunting me just to pass the time?”

“Pretty much.” Lexa shrugs. “That and you seem to be Anya’s shiny new toy so I feel the responsibility to run you through the wringer a bit. Make sure you’re sturdy enough to stand up to her rough play style.” Lexa adds an annoyingly charming wink to close off her statement.

“Wow. Ok.” Clarke says and continues to make her way through groups of people trying to find Anya.

“That’s it? Ok?” Lexa says as she struggles to remain within hearing distance of Clarke’s retreating figure. “So you and Anya ARE a thing?”

“It doesn’t matter what we are.” Clarke says over her shoulder. “I don’t owe you shit, least of all a rundown of me and your friends relationship.”

Lexa scoffs but continues to follow Clarke until she finds Anya practically hiding from both of them in a shadowed corner between a filing cabinet and a plastic ficus.

“There you are!” Clarke practically yells at Anya. “Here take this.” She shoves Anya’s drink in her hand before starting to down hers.

“Oh, hey guys.” Anya says meekly. “I was looking for you.”

“No you weren’t.” Lexa corrects. “I watched you slink off into this corner as soon as Clarke started looking for you.

“Lexa!” Both Clarke and Anya reprimand at the same time.

“You knew where she was the whole time and just let me wander around like an idiot?” Clarke asks the brunette next to her.

“You never told me you were looking for Anya.”

“You’re impossible.” Clarke huffs and turns to Anya. “Can’t you take her spot as lead pilot and we just leave her behind?”

Anya throws her hands up in mock surrender. “Hey leave me out of whatever this is. You’re both going on this mission and you’re both my friends so figure it out because it’s not on me to play mediator or take sides.”

Clarke throws up her own hands in frustration before crossing her arms and looking anywhere but at the two women standing beside her. They all stand awkwardly silent before Anya clears her throat. “Well, this has been fun but I think I’m going to go talk to tall dark and handsome over there playing with the robotic arm.”

Clarke watches Anya cooly saunter away and shakes her head before addressing the brunette still standing next to her. “She wants me to examine you.”

Lexa chokes on her current sip and coughs out an, “Excuse me?”

“Anya.” Clarke nods towards the flirting woman across the way. “She wants me to perform a physical on you. Make sure all your gears are working right. Apparently she’s worried about your behavior lately. Since I haven’t seen any different, I’d just say you’re an asshole.”

The soldier sags a bit before responding. “Is that your professional opinion?”

“Yes. But I’m no shrink.”

“Hmmm.” Lexa hums thoughtfully. “So what you’re saying is Anya actually wants me to go to a shrink?”

“No.” Clarke corrects. “What I’m saying is Anya is concerned for her friend and possibly thinks some medical help may be necessary to get that stick out your ass.”

Lexa scoffs into her cup and watches her friend take over maneuvering the mechanical arm from the man she was flirting with. “If it would make Anya happy, then I’m sure I could handle an exam without being too terribly rude to you.”

“Wow. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Clarke mocks. “Call the clinic and make an appointment for sometime in the next couple days. Let’s just get this over with so Anya will get off my back and we can go back to hating each other.”

“Fine.” Lexa says as she finishes her drink.

***

  
Clarke ends up seeing Lieutenant Commander Woods earlier than her scheduled appointment. They’re not even in the clinic when Clarke runs into the infuriating soldier.

“Woods.” Clarke greets stiffly when Lexa approaches her at the singular park in town.

“Dr. Griffin.” Lexa responds as she fiddles with a paper bag in hand. “What brings you to the park?”

“Probably the same thing that brought you here.” Clarke says. The, just trying to take in the beauty of our planet before I potentially leave it forever, goes unsaid.

The soldier nods solemnly and looks over the duck pond they are standing near. “Would you like to feed the ducks with me?” She asks shyly.

Clarke steps back in confusion, the woman standing next to her was nothing like the combative woman she had grown to know. “What do you mean?”

Shrugging, Lexa rattles the contents of the paper bag in her hand. “Well, I’ve got this stale bread and woke up thinking about how I would feed the ducks as a kid. Thought maybe I’d do it one last time.”

Clarke can only tilt her head in even more confusion. “Why are you telling me this?”

Lexa pinches her lips together and shrugs her shoulders in response, a slight blush crawling up her neck.

“You know you’re not supposed to feed the ducks anymore, right?” Clarke points to the sign posted very obviously on the walkway.

“I was going to pretend like I didn’t see that.” Lexa offers, a hint of her cheeky attitude showing.

Clarke snatches the bag out of the soldiers hand, turning sharply away and heading in the direction towards the pond.

“Hey!” Lexa calls after her and jogs to catch up. “It’s rude to steal from people, you know?!”

“You’re idea of rude is severely flawed, soldier.” Clarke calls back as she squats down close to the water’s edge.

“Oh?” Lexa questions as she settles next to Clarke. “Care to elaborate?”

“Nope.” Clarke pops back as she throws her first handful of crumbs for the ducks making a beeline for them. She holds the paper bag out to the brunette next to her.

“You gonna offer me my own bread?” And goddammit, the way Lexa tilts her head in question at Clarke is almost endearing enough to make Clarke forget how much she dislikes this woman.

Clarke shakes the bag at Lexa. “Call this us breaking bread.”

Lexa snatched the bag from Clarke’s hand and takes her time choosing choice chunks of bread and throwing several out before addressing Clarke. “I know you think I’m harsh, Dr. Griffin, but living the life I’ve had, my brashness has become a means of survival for me. You might call it “assholery”, but for me, it’s safe.” She turns green eyes to Clarke and Clarke can’t help but feel like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Anya told you about that, huh?” Clarke makes a mental note not to run her mouth about Lexa to Anya anymore now that the friends have made up.

Lexa nods slowly as she turns her attention back to the small army of ducks they’ve amassed.

“Well, I guess I just have a hard time seeing how that type of behavior is helpful.” Clarke says. “Not that my opinion matters, I’m just a doctor after all.”

The soldier next to her scoffs before handing the bag back to Clarke. “And a lousy one at that, pretty sure my nose healed crooked.” Lexa reaches up, running her thumb and forefinger along the bridge of her nose.

“It did not.” Clarke exclaims. “It wasn’t even broken so stop being dramatic.” She pushes the soldiers hands away from her face to reveal the smile hidden underneath and Clarke can’t help but smile back. “And I happen to be a great doctor, how else do you think I got my position on the expedition, you jerk?”

Lexa goes to open her mouth but Clarke throws a hand in the air cutting her off mid breath. “And don’t you dare say it’s because of my mother.”

“Ok, then.” Lexa smirks. “Maybe your father, then?” Clarke can see the look of horror cross the soldiers features as soon as the words leave her mouth.

“Are you making jokes about my dead dad, Lieutenant Commander Woods?” Clarke crosses her arms and plays at being upset. Not that she’s not upset about her deceased father but knew the soldier was just trying to be playful and forgotten about the fact that Clarke’s family was one of the most famous in the world, rendering all her private affairs very much public. Like how her father was killed in an assassination plot gone wrong. A Griffin was killed that day, just the wrong one.

“I am so sorry.” Lexa backtracks. “I forgot. Which is no excuse for my behavior. I… uh… I know you’re pretty much royalty but it’s weird to link all the news stories with my doctor.”

Clarke just stares at the bumbling woman, enjoying seeing her awkward and backpedaling for a change. Clarke stops Lexa from groveling more by relaxing her posture and giving her a small smile. “It’s ok. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. It would be like getting upset at a “your mom” joke when you have a dead mom.”

“Maybe,” Lexa says dejectedly “Except for the fact that I’m sure those people didn’t have their family tragedy plastered on every screen across the globe. I should have been more thoughtful. I apologize, ma’am.”

“Well,” Clarke says as she stands from her crouch, “apology accepted even though it was entirely unnecessary.” Lexa stand quickly and shuffles awkwardly. “And as much fun as this was, I better go, I’ve got some files to look over tonight.”

“Right. Ok. I’ll see you for our appointment Dr. Griffin.” Lexa nods stiffly towards Clarke as a form of goodbye.

“Until then Lieutenant Commander.” Clarke says and pulls her coat tighter around her neck before heading off. She doesn’t make it far before she turns back towards the soldier looking over the pond. “Oh, and Woods?!” She calls back.

Lexa turns to Clarke looking a bit surprised. “Yes, Doctor?”

“If you keep it up with all this,” Clarke motions her hand towards Lexa and the pond. “We might be able to act civil around each other. Especially with Anya being both of our friend and all.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Doctor.” Lexa smirks back before waving Clarke off and turning back to the ducks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't bore you with an excuse as to why this took me so long to update. Just know I plan to see this story through and enjoy all the comments and kudos from you all. Thanks for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Lieutenant Anya M. Stone**

**\- 2 Months Later -**

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” Anya cursed inside her helmet as the g-force from takeoff pressed her back into her chair. If she didn’t already know a human body was capable of withstanding this amount and more of pressure she would be certain that her skin was about to peel away from her bones and fly back to plaster itself against the wall of electrical panels behind her. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck”

“Lieutenant.” Lexa’s calm voice rang through the speakers of Anya’s helmet. “Language.” 

“I...Fuck, Lex, I think I’m gonna pass out.” Anya said through clenched teeth as she felt her body rattle uncontrollably. 

“No you’re not, Lieutenant.” Lexa reassured her. “We’re almost through atmosphere and I refuse to break through next to my passed out co-pilot.”

“Fuck.” Anya forced out, her head pounding and lungs now nearly empty of air as darkness starts invading the edges of her vision. “You.” 

***

“I am never doing that again.” Anya states as she tips her head back and breathes deep for what feels like the first time in years. “That was way worse than all the exercises.” 

“That’s why it’s called training, Lieutenant. It prepares you for the real event without being real itself. A close approximation.” Lexa replied as she checked over the many panels surrounding them containing gauges, dials, buttons, switches, and touch screens. “Now get your head in the game and do your checks.”

Anya scoffs. “Ok, thanks for that captain obvious.” She meticulously checks the equipment she is responsible for before turning to look to her friend and commander. “You’re seriously gonna tell me you didn’t shit yourself back there?” 

Lexa unbuckles herself and slowly floats into the space between them, gently reaching for Anya still strapped into her seat and pulling herself closer. “No, An. I can safely say that I did not shit my pants. But I do think you better clean it up if you did before we go check on the civilians, especially if you plan on checking in on that pretty brunette you keep sneaking off with.” 

“I did NOT shit my pants, Lex. And I don’t know what brunette you’re talking about. There have been several.” 

“Ok, hot shit.” Lexa rolls her eyes before addressing the ships AI. “T, run a diagnostic and let ground know stage one is complete.”

“_ Yes, Lieutenant Commander Woods _.” T’s sterile voice rings through the small space via the speaker above them, the ships AI getting to work on completing it’s tasks alongside Lexa and Anya. 

“You know what’s next, An. Call it out.” Anya’s commander looks hard into her eyes with her own piecing green ones expectantly. 

“I’m fine, L-”

“Call it out, Lieutenant Stone.” Lexa interrupts. “Call it out or you aren’t leaving this chair. Those g’s hit you way harder than they should have. You’re a fucking fighter pilot for god’s sake.”

“Lexa.” Anya sighs out.

“Anya.” Lexa pauses. “Call it out.” 

Anya closes her eyes and licks her lips. “Lieutenant Anya Stone reporting for duty sir. I’m thirty six years old. My birthday is on the twenty seventh of March, twenty forty four. And I am the co-pilot of the space vessel Polaris, sent into space October thirty first, twenty eighty.” 

“Happy Halloween Lieutenant.” Lexa smiles sweetly, giving Anya a reassuring pat. “Now sit tight. I’m going to go do some final checks before I set us on route to the station and kick in the gravity. After that I’m getting Clarke to check on you.”

“Whaaa? Why?” Anya argues. “That was all correct.”

“True.” Lexa calls over her shoulder as she glides to the wall of panels tucked behind the pilots chairs. “But you still passed out. That and you love me.” Lexa adds with a cheeky smile directed at her companion.

“Aye fucking Aye.” Anya grumbles out. 

  
  


**Clarke A. Griffin M.D. **

**Days in space: 1**

The first thing Clarke is aware of when she wakes up is how dry her mouth is. So dry she forgets she’s in a space shuttle currently traveling at speeds incomprehensible to her. Raven has told her several times leading up to today the speed of which they would be traveling only for Clarke to quickly forget it. She knew it was fast and that was enough for her. 

It’s not until she notices familiar green eyes searching her face does Clarke get slingshot back into her present reality. 

“Enjoy your nap, Doctor?” The pouty lips belonging to green eyes asks before a small smile appears. 

“Shit.” Clarke grumbles out, trying to sit up while willing her mouth to produce some moisture so her voice doesn’t sound so gravelly. Clarke shakes the grogginess of the sedative out of her mind while strong hands make sure she doesn’t tumble out of her seat. “Did...are we…” Clarke pauses to clear her throat and grab onto one of the soldier's arms to ground herself. “Did we make it?”

The Lieutenant Commander moves a reassuring hand to Clarke’s shoulder and says the words Clarke could still barley wrap her head around. “Welcome to space, Doctor Griffin.” If Clarke wasn’t sitting down already she’s sure she would have had to find a chair or the ground to be able to wrap her head around the fact. She’d had plenty of time to prepare herself but it seems no amount of preparation is fit for news like that. 

“How are you feeling?” Lexa asks. “Still groggy? I’ve got some water here for you if you’re ready for it.” The soldier holds out a water bottle for Clarke who readily accepts it and gulps half the thing down before she starts feeling fully herself again. 

“Better?” Lexa asks as she moves to unclip Clarke’s safety harness. 

“Much. Thank you.” Clarke says as she moves her hands to help the soldier. Their hands meet on the same buckle and Clarke quickly withdraws her hand, feeling a blush run along her cheeks. 

Lexa's behavior towards Clarke had warmed and continued to warm since their day at the duck pond. Showing up to her appointment with Clarke on time. Going to the specialist Clarke recommended for her anxiety without putting up a fight(although some grumbling could be heard whilst the pair had had coffee with Anya later in the week). She could even be bothered enough to come out of her room when Clarke was over to partake in her and Anya’s movie with pizza and beer nights. Anya quickly started calling the bi-weekly event, The Three Spaceketeers Night, much to the other goers dismay. The unthinkable even occurred when Anya hosted several guests more than once at her and Lexa’s apartment. Lexa could be seen laughing and smiling freely with more than just Anya and Clarke. Lexa and Raven had hit it off so quickly it scared Clarke into diving between the two once Raven was being charmed out of some rather embarrassing childhood stories of Clarke by a smooth talking Lieutenant Commander. Anya had to come up with a new name for their movie nights after that seeing as Raven quickly became their fourth member. On one such night Clarke was actually able to talk Lexa into a game of impromptu beer pong after everybody had already had one beer too many. The pilot hadn’t missed a single shot, but Clarke would be happy to lose painfully at a silly game everyday to feel the warmth and sense of home she felt surrounded by the little family that had accidentally came to be. 

The clearing of a throat brought Clarke out of her thoughts and another deeper blush to her face. “Sorry.” She mumbled, avoiding Lexa’s penetrating gaze as she finally freed herself from the safety harness. “I guess I’m still a little out of it.” 

“It’s ok. I think lift off was a little harder on us than we had intended.” Lexa explained. “The g’s really hit Anya and if I’m being completely honest they got me pretty good too. I’m thinking it might have something to do with the size of the ship. Or maybe she was more worked up about it than she let on but she passed out for a good while there and I’d like you to check on her before everyone else starts waking up.”

“Oh.” Clarke says, immediately worried about her friend. She looks around to see all the other passengers still slumped a bit in their chairs, still sleeping from the mild dose of sedatives they were all given before launch to hopefully prevent them from going through too much stress. Clarke spared a glance to Raven on her right before mustering the strength in her legs to stand up. 

“She’s ok.” Lexa reassures Clarke as she offers her a helping hand up. “I checked Raven’s vitals while you were coming to. She should be fine.” 

“Thank you.” Clarke says as she straightens up and fixes her bunched up uniform. “How long do we have to worry about Anya before everyone else is awake?”

“About 10 minutes.” Lexa answers as she grabs Clarke by the pinky and gently leads her out of the room housing everyone and towards the cockpit. “I hope you don’t mind but I woke you up a bit early.” 

“No. No that’s fine.” Clarke’s voice breaks a bit over the feeling of a warm hand wrapped around her pinky. Another change in the past couple months of their relationship. Lexa had started reaching for Clarke’s hand to lead her new places or get her attention, but never clasping more than a finger. As if she was worried the rest of Clarke’s hand was off limits or a step too far. Clarke hadn’t built up the courage yet to let Lexa know she could have both her hands if she wanted them. 

“Perfect. Ok.” Lexa leads on unaware of the butterflies in Clarke’s stomach. “Watch your head. Step tall over the ledge.” Clarke was led expertly through the ship by her pinky on minimal light by the pilot but was still relieved once they shimmied their way into the cockpit where Anya stood checking the many confounding instruments taking up all the surface space available. 

“Anya.” Clarke says as she approaches the pilot. “Come sit and let me take a look at you.” 

“It’s nothing really.” Anya argues while still complying and moving towards Clarke, there was no way Clarke would be able to fit in between the pilot's chair and the panel of instruments so they kneeled together in the cramped space behind said chair. 

“Still.” Clarke tuts while giving Anya a quick visual once over. “I’ve got to make sure my favorite pilot is alive and well.” 

“Oh fuck off.” Lexa tuts over her shoulder while checking over the instruments again herself. 

Clarke chuckles and moves to check Anya’s pupils with her light pen. “How’s your stomach? Queasy? In knots?”

“A little queasy, yeah. But I had some water and I’m doing better.”

“Good.” Clarke wishes she could listen to Anya’s lungs and heart herself but their flight suits make it impossible for her to reach with her stethoscope. Instead she pulls out her VRD designed to work with the flight suits, communicating with them and receiving a reading of the wearers vitals constantly being monitored by a device in the flight suit. “And your breathing. Any difficulty?”

“Nope.” Answers Anya.

“What about your head?”

“I hear I’m pretty good in that department.” 

“Anya.” Clarke chides

Anya chuckles before answering. “It hurts a little but nothing an advil couldn’t fix.” 

“Ok.” Clarke stands, still ducking to avoid the low ceiling. “Let me know if anything gets any worse and also when you start feeling better. I need to start cataloging everyone's responses to the trip. Especially if more people wake up feeling off.”

“You got it doc. I’ll radio you.” Anya mock salutes Clarke and if they weren’t in a room that held the controls for all of their survival Clarke would have shoved the woman. 

“Ok, Lex. Get me out of here and back to where everyone else is. I left my tablet in my chair and need to updates Anya’s chart as well as give you a once over before everyone starts waking up.” 

Anya’s eyes widen for a moment before turning to Lexa. “Did you pass out too?”

“No.” Lexa says firmly as she moves out of the cockpit. “It’s just protocol. Now keep an eye on those instruments and I’ll be right back, Lieutenant.” 

“Yes ma’am” Anya says before shooing Clarke after Lexa with a pat on the butt and a whispered, “Give her the special check up” in Clarke’s ear. 

  
  


**Lieutenant Commander Alexandria R. Woods**

**Days in space: 1**

Lexa leads Clarke out from the nose of the ship and back towards the rest of the quarters. Her mind going over the next steps required to get her ship and it occupants safely incorporated with the waiting space station but she doesn’t make it far into the ship before her mind wanders to the Doctor trailing closely behind her. The last few months leading up to now were some of the most stressful times Lexa had ever gone through(not that she expected the stress levels to do anything but rise from here on out). They had also been a time of personal growth if Lexa was being completely honest, those months contained some of the best days in her life. Clarke’s part of the change was apparent and Lexa often found herself lying awake at night, eyes on the ceiling, hands subconsciously running along the smooth plain of her stomach wondering when the blond had become such an immense figure in her life. 

Clarke had been kind and gentle when they were just a doctor and her patient. Listening to Lexa when she described the feelings that plagued her and softly nudging her in the right direction to right her capsized emotions. And Clarke had been playful and charming when they found themselves spending time around each other outside of the doctors office. Batting her lashes while asking Lexa to play drinking games with her late at night or to go on early morning walks braving the dew covered world. Whispering softly so as not to wake up a passed out Anya and Raven nearby. Scooting herself close to Lexa on the couch while DVD menu screens repeated themselves on the tv. Divulging her secret hopes and dreams, her fears of the future.

“You’re quiet up there, Soldier.” Clarke says.

“Hmmm.” Lexa snaps back from her thoughts. “Sorry, just thinking.” 

“Come here.” Clarke says softly as she pulls Lexa around to face her. “Are you feeling ok? Let me look you over.”

Lexa sighs, “Besides the crippling anxiety to get us all to AlphaOne in one piece? Just peachy, Doctor.”

Clarke huffs at Lexa and wraps her fingers into the belt of Lexa’s flight suit, pulling her closer to the Doctor. “Well it’s good to know your sense of humor hasn’t been damaged. Would hate to see that sarcastic mouth of yours get sucked into space.” 

“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without this mouth.” Lexa quickly retorts before realizing the implications of her words. Clarke’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline at the comment and her eye’s drop to Lexa’s mouth, immediately sending the pilots heart into hyperdrive. “I… I didn’t mean it like that.” Lexa tries to correct but Clarke is already laughing the comment off and pulling her light pen out of her pocket. When Clarke’s done checking Lexa’s pupillary response she grabs Lexa’s hand, pulling Lexa’s arm closer to her so she can connect her VRD to Lexa’s suit, softly running her thumb over Lexa’s knuckles and warming the pilots core with the action. 

“Jesus, Lexa.” Clarke exclaims. “You’re pulse is through the roof. Are you ok?”

“Yes.” Lexa reassures, eager to lie about the real reason her heart is pounding. “Just a little amped up.”

“Lexa, I know you. You stay calm through everything. What’s going on?” Clarke’s questioning and now reassuring hands grabbing up Lexa’s own to try to sooth the pilot send Lexa’s heart off again and she wills Clarke’s eyes to stay focused on hers instead of the climbing numbers Lexa can see in her peripherals displayed on Clarke’s VRD. Damn that machine. 

“I’m fine, I promise Clarke.” Lexa pleads but Clarke just grabs the back of Lexa’s neck and forces Lexa to give those sparkling blue eye’s her full attention and now Lexa knows she’s fucked. If it weren’t for her flight suit, Lexa’s sure Clarke would be able to see her heart pounding in her chest. 

“Don’t lie to me, Lieutenant Commander Woods.” Clarke says seriously before turning her eyes back to her VRD. “Lexa, I think you should sit down, you’re heart rate is skyrocketing. Come here.” Clarke pushes Lexa against the nearest wall and urges her to slide down it to sit and Lexa didn’t think Clarke could make it worse but the doctor pressing her form against Lexa’s to offer some support definitely does the trick. 

“For fucks sake, Clarke, I’m fine!” Lexa’s voice raises in panic and Clarke just resorts to trying to manhandle Lexa to the floor. 

“Don’t you yell at me, you stubborn ass, cocky, show boat of a pilot!” Clarke retorts while she struggles to force Lexa into a sitting position. 

“Oh my…” Lexa says, trying to regain control of the situation. “Listen to me, Clarke.”

“No, YOU listen to Me!” Clarke is all but yelling now as she jabs a finger in Lexa’s chest, panic now apparent in both of their voices. “You are my fucking patient and you will do what I ask you to so I can keep you alive!” 

Lexa can’t take the blondes pushing and prodding anymore and grabs Clarke’s waist, pushing her to arms length and firmly holding her there. “Clarke!” Lexa squeezes for emphasis to get the now angry doctors attention. “My heart rate has nothing to do with my health and all about the fact that I have a beautiful woman putting her hands all over me!” 

Clarke struggles against Lexa for another moment before she fully digests the pilots words and abruptly drops her hands and blushes a bright red. “Oh.” She mumbles and crosses her arms uncomfortably. “That’s… that makes sense I guess.” 

Lexa drops her own arms and backs further away from her friend. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable but you started to freak out there and I couldn’t see any other way to get you to stop fussing over me.” 

“That’s ok, Lexa.” Clarke is nearly whispering now. “I was just worried about you is all.”

Lexa’s hand finds the back of her neck to rub nervously as she shuffles her feet. “Well, I appreciate that, Doctor.” 

Clarke scoffs at Lexa calling her doctor and looks up at her under her lashes and it’s like Lexa just swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“I want you to know I would never make any kind of advance on you and only want you to feel safe and comfortable on my ship. I consider you a close friend, Clarke, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Fuck, I planned on taking this to the grave, I promise. And if-”

Clarke interrupts Lexa’s rambling with her bright smile, sparkling eyes, and gravelly chuckle. 

“What?” Lexa questions as Clarke moves to empty the space Lexa had placed between them. 

“Just you.” Clarke replies as Lexa tries to awkwardly shuffle away.

“Well, that’s kind of rude, Clarke. I’m trying to be a good person and you’re laughing at me.” Lexa shakes her head in disbelief. Her first day on mission and she’d already fucked up her friendship with Clarke and now the woman was laughing in her face. 

“Oh, Lex.” Clarke laughs as she reaches for her elbow and pulls Lexa closer. “I’m laughing because you’re all talk but as soon as it comes to actually being honest about your feelings you clam up like a middle schooler.” 

“That’s not fair, Clarke.” Lexa retorts, struggling with her proximity to the doctor. 

“Why?” Clarke asks, now toe to toe with Lexa. 

Lexa swallows hard and searches Clarke’s face for any signs of discomfort but instead only sees wanting in crystal blue eyes and longing in the way that Clarke traps her bottom lip between her teeth. By the looks of things the feelings are mutual and it gives Lexa the courage to say her next words as she leans into Clarke’s space, tasting the blonds breath on her own lips. “Because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And I find myself struggling around you. You’re special, Clarke.” 

If Lexa wasn’t so close to Clarke she would have missed the sharp intake of breath but as it is, she’s just a moment away from her lips pressing against Clarke’s, and therefore hears Clarke reacting to her words and her closeness. 

“Lexa.” Clarke whimpers as she glides her nose along Lexa’s, breathing deep and reaching up to pull at the back of Lexa’s neck. 

“Clarke.” Lexa whispers back. Closing her eyes and reveling in their closeness, wrapping her arms around Clarke’s lower back and pulling her impossible closer.

Lexa’s was just beginning to feel the ghost of lips on her own when an alarm sounds throughout the ship. “Shit!” Lexa startles and tears herself away from Clarke. She’s halfway down the hall when she turns to find Clarke in the same place Lexa left her, eyes wide and arms still up in the air as if embracing the ghost Lexa left behind. 

“Clarke!” Lexa yells, snapping her out of her daze. Lexa runs back to Clarke and turns her towards the civilian units. “You need to go back to your seat and buckle yourself in. Can you do that?”

Clarke seems to come fully back to herself at Lexa’s words, licking her lips and blinking her eyes. “Yes.”

“Good. Now go. I’ll radio you when I can and do your best to keep everyone calm if they start waking up.’’ Instructs Lexa. 

They are both running their separate ways without any further words and Lexa is berating herself for messing around with Clarke when she should have been in the cockpit with Anya focusing on the mission. 

“What’s happening!?” Lexa roars as she hurriedly clambers into the cockpit, finding a frantic Anya pouring over the screen in front of her.

“We got knocked off course some how!” Anya yells, panicked. “Nothing should have been able to do that unless we collided with something.”

“That’s impossible.” Lexa states as calmly as possible trying to take control of the situation, checking that the rest of the ship was in working order. “What’s T telling us?”

“That we’ve missed the mark by almost a whole degree during take off, it’s set us way off course and that if we were to change course for AlphaOne now we’d never make it. We don’t have enough fuel to overcompensate.” 

“Why were we not aware of this as soon as we cleared atmo?” Lexa demands as she pulls up their ships coordinates on the screen in front of her. 

“I don’t know. T must have been taken off guard as much as we are and didn’t even think to recalculate until all the other system checks were done.” Offers Anya. 

Lexa looks to Anya, kicking herself even harder for delaying with Clarke, “This isn’t your fault. We can fix this.”

Anya nods and turns back to her equipment, trying to come up with a fix to their astronomical problem. 

Lexa begins her own trouble shooting as she addresses the built in AI of the ship. “T! I need you to get me connected to our team on the ground, forward them our current trajectory and turn that goddamn alarm off.” 

“_ Yes, Lieutenant Commander Woods. Connecting you to ground control now.” _

“Woods!” The cockpit is filled with the voice of head of operations, Indra Martin. “Why did you send me a message nearly 10 minutes ago with the all clear only to send me this abysmal report now?” 

“Abysmal is a bit of an exaggeration, ma’am. We weren’t aware we were off course until just recently. T didn’t even catch it until moments ago.” 

“T is not the pilot Woods, you are. And so is Lieutenant Stone.” Indra chides. “Now tell me how we’re going to correct this.”

“I think the best we can do is just ride this out.” Lexa responds calmly. “We simply recalculate our change of trajectory to AlphaOne using the current path we are on and wait till the distance is equal to or less than what we originally planned on.” 

“We only have enough fuel to set us on the already planned course.” Anya anxiously chimes in. “I watched you do the calculations and we don’t have the fuel.”

“She’s right, Woods.” Indra adds.

“Yes.” Lexa agrees. “But hear me out. If you look at the current trajectory of both Polaris and AlphaOne and our proximity to each other as we orbit earth…” Lexa pauses to pull up the information on the screen in front of her knowing the same information is being displayed back on the ground. “We’re currently out of range, but if we wait long enough, orbiting earth on our current trajectories, eventually we will pass by close enough to each other to change course and meet up safely with AlphaOne. In theory we would use the same amount of fuel. I haven’t quite finished my calculations but I’m sure T could double check me in-” 

“_ Immediately _ .” T interrupts, “ _ Lieutenant Commander Woods has calculated correctly Mrs. Martin. The ships thrusters can be set on a timer to go at the exact moment needed to re-calibrate Polaris’ position in exactly three days, seven hours, and forty two point zero four five seconds. _” 

“Crisis averted.” Lexa smirks at Anya and watches her co-pilot slump in her chair in relief. 

“And what about the fact that you have a ship full of people with enough rations to last you one day?” Indra offers.

“We ration.” Lexa states simply. “Unless we can think of a different option, that’s the best we can do. It may be harder for some than others but I believe we can manage. The alternative is coming back to earth and starting from scratch.”

“Very well.” Indra says. “Have T send me the specs and I’ll notify AlphaOne of the change. And make sure we don’t run into any more hiccups you two. We can’t have this mission go up in flames before it’s even started.”

“Yes Ma’am” The pilots respond in unison before the comm lines are cut. 

“Shit, that was scary for a second there.” Anya says. “I very nearly actually shit my pants this time when the alarm went off.” 

“Please refrain from ever shitting in your pants, Stone.” Lexa says with a chuckle. “Now let’s go check on the rest of our team and fill them in. T can take over for a while.” 

“_As you wish, Lieutenant Commander Woods _.” T’s voice fills the cockpit. 

“Thank you, T. Contact us if there are any changes and drop the formality. Lexa will do from now on.”

_ “Command noted, Lexa.” _

“And calculate each person's water and food rations for the next three days.” Orders Lexa as she makes her way out of the cockpit. 

“And where are you going?” Demands Anya, scrambling to follow Lexa. 

“To make sure our crew is ok.” Lexa responds, leaving out the fact that her concern lies mostly with one crew member in particular. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped you enjoyed all my made up mumbo jumbo about space ships and shit cause I have no idea what I'm talking about. haha. Seriously though I hope it was logical enough to be believable. Thanks for reading! All the comments and kudos have been lovely


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romance in spaaaaaaace!  
From here on out the story will jump around a bit on the timeline.

**Lieutenant Commander Alexandria R. Woods**

**Days in Space: 2,920**

Lexa’s exhausted. She’s tired and sore for reasons she doesn’t understand because it’s not like she has been doing anything besides lounging in the control room monitoring instruments and wandering aimlessly around AlphaOne. Her only duties being one of maintaining the ship and its current trajectory and checking on her sleeping crew periodically. Avoiding spending too much time hovering over one specific cryo pod. If Lexa were to look through the small observation window at the occupant inside, she would be reminded unnecessarily of the time she’s spent alone wandering the ships cramped corridors, trying to remember what it felt like to hear a familiar voice, feel warm hands and lips caress her skin. No. Lexa needs to spend as much time away from that pod as possible because she has a responsibility to all the human lives on this ship. She tries not to think of all the lives back on earth she feels the responsibility for as well. 

This particular day happens to mark Lexa’s 8th waking year in space. Every year she is required to wake up one of the medical professionals on the ship just long enough to make sure she is healthy and capable of continuing the mission before placing them back into cryo. It’s mandatory. Every waking year spent in space requires a physical. This will be Lexa’s eighth physical. Most occupants on the ship haven’t even required one. 

Lexa’s eyes have barely begun to flutter open from sleep when she hears T’s voice ringing through the speakers in her quarters. _ “Good morning, Lexa. Should I begin the process of trying to wake Dr. Griffin for your annual physical?” _

“No, T.” Lexa grumbles as she stretches forcefully in an attempt to control the emotions that suddenly flood her body at the mention of Clarke. “Wake someone else. Someone that hasn’t been able to come out of cryo yet.” 

_ “Waking Dr. Jackson now.” _

“Thanks, T.” 

Lexa’s quarters grow eerily quiet again as she scoots herself to the end of her bunk, dropping her face into her hands and rubbing her aching temples. She takes her time waking up and stretching her limbs before she slides into her jumpsuit and walks barefoot to where Dr. Jackson’s cryo chamber rests. His eyes are just beginning to clear the haze of cryo sleep when Lexa makes it to the hall full of sleeping occupants. 

“Good dreams?” Lexa jokes as she makes her way to the doctor, slipping a helping hand under his shoulders and aiding him in sitting up. She hands him the water bottle she had brought for him to drink, waiting for him to get his bearings before formally addressing the man. Once he’s gulped down half the bottle and cleared his throat several times Lexa offers her hand for him to shake. 

“I’m Lieutenant Commander Woods, Doctor, and I just need you to perform a routine physical before I can send you back to dreamland.”

“Pilot?” He questions as he gives Lexa’s hand a quick squeeze before stretching his limbs out and running his eyes over Lexa’s body, checking for any obvious ailments. 

“Yes, sir.” Lexa responds.

“How many years?” He asks.

“Eight.” 

“Eight?” Dr. Jackson asks incredulously. “Jesus. It feels like I just barely closed my eyes.” 

“Then it seems our cryo chambers are in working order.” Lexa says, trying to keep the moment light and cheery. The last doctor she’d woken to perform her physical had a bit of a freak out when she told them how long they had been asleep. 

The doctor shakes his head as if interrupting any line of panicked thought and instead focuses on Lexa’s wellbeing. Just over an hour later and Lexa’s watching Dr. Jackson fall back into cryo sleep with a clean bill of health. Some weight loss was to be expected but besides that Lexa had the all clear to send the report back to control and play guardian to AlphaOne for another year. 

  
  


**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

**Days in Space: 3,048 **

_ “Wake up, Dr. Griffin.” _

Clarke smiles at hearing T’s voice again. It’s not the voice she was hoping to wake up to but just hearing T meant that Clarke was awake, which meant she would get to see Lexa. Even though it felt like Clarke had just closed her eyes to the sound of Lexa’s reassuring voice telling her that she loved her, Clarke was very much aware that in reality it could have been up to a year between now and then and Clarke was desperate to get her bearings quickly and find the pilot she knew would be making her way towards her at this very moment.

_ “Dr. Griffin.” _ T urges. _ “Dr. Griffin, your vitals are telling me you are awake. Dr. Griffin please respond.” _

“Yeah.” Clarke coughs out. Missing the water bottle that Lexa usually greets her with when she is woken from cryo.

_ “Lieutenant Commander Woods is in need of medical attention, Dr. Griffin.” _

“What!?” Clarke panics, pushing herself off the platform in charge of housing her sleeping form and crashing onto the floor, her knees giving out from the sudden impact. “Fuck.” Clarke hisses and clambers up on wobbly legs. “What happened, T?!” Clarke begs as she grabs the medical bag tucked under her cryo chamber. 

_ “An illness, Doctor.” _

Clarke swears under her breath as she runs out of the cryo unit. An illness doesn’t make sense. Everything and everyone was completely sterilized before they entered their spacecraft. There shouldn’t be any virus in the ship. 

“Where is she, T?” Clarke yells, heading to the front of the ship where both Lexa’s quarters and the control room reside. Two places Clarke knows Lexa to spend the majority of her time.

_ “She collapsed doing rounds in corridor E outside of the cryo unit.” _

“Shit.” Clarke curses and turns on her heels making her way towards the opposite side of the ship and the second hall of cryo units housing passangers of AlphaOne. “Was she showing any symptoms?” 

_ “Lieutenant Commander Woods has had a mild fever for 2 days and was showing signs of severe abdominal pain for twenty-six hours.” _

Clarke is so busy racking her brain for possible reasons for Lexa’s condition that she doesn’t see the pair of legs splayed out in the dim corridor. Clarke trips over them and lands sprawled out next to the sick woman she was racing towards. “Fucking shit.” Clarke curses her clumsiness and forces herself to swallow the panic she’d let take over her body. She takes deep breaths while quickly gathering her spilled supplies before finally turning to the body laying limply behind her. 

Clarke is immediately terrified when she takes in Lexa’s loss of weight and her sallow complexion. Her breathing is shallow and when Clarke lays a delicate hand over Lexa’s chest she can feel the once vibrant and lively pilot's body shivering uncontrollably. “Lexa, baby, what happened to you?” Clarke begs as she begins checking Lexa’s vitals and wishing for those green eyes to open and reassure her that everything was going to be ok.

_ “Lieutenant Commander Woods is unconscious Dr. Griffin. She will not be able to respond to you.” _

“I know, T!” Clarke growls. “Why didn’t you wake me up as soon as she was showing symptoms?” 

_ “I was told not to, Dr. Griffin.” _

“Well, you listen to me now.” Clarke orders angrily. “I need you to wake up Lieutenant Stone to replace Lexa in the control room and I need you to wake up Dr. Jackson to help me.”

_ “Waking them now.” _T confirms.

“Send them both to me immediately. I need their help getting her to medical.” 

_ “Yes, Dr. Griffin.” _

Clarke cups Lexa’s face and kisses her forehead gently, leaving behind tears she didn’t even realize she was crying. “I’ll be right back, baby. I need to go get a stretcher.” 

***

Clarke is sprinting back from medical with the lightweight, collapsible stretcher in her hands when she collides with a warm body. 

“Clarke!?” It’s Anya and she steadies Clarke with familiar strong hands. “What’s happening?” 

Shaking Anya off of her, Clarke starts running towards Lexa’s unconscious body laying waiting for her. “Lexa’s sick. I don’t know what it is for sure but I think it may be acute appendicitis. If I’m right I need to get her to medbay immediately and prep her for surgery.”

“Jesus Christ.” Anya mutters under her breath as she keeps pace with Clarke. 

They come up to Lexa’s limp form with Dr. Jackson kneeled over her, using his hands to physically examine Lexa’s abdomen. 

“This woman is extremely sick.” Jackson says as they slide to a stop next to him and immediately start unfolding the stretcher and moving to place Lexa’s delicate frame on top of it. 

“Jesus. Look at her.” Anya groans. Taking in Lexa’s disheveled form for the first time. “T, how long have we been in cryo?” 

They are moving as quickly as they can through the ship to medbay without jostling the pilot's body too much. T’s voice chasing them by sounding through each new speaker they pass. 

_ “Lieutenant Anya Stone has been in cryo sleep for seven years, three months and five days. Doctor Clarke Griffin has been in cryo sleep for five years, six months, and twenty-nine days. _

_ Doctor Jackson’s last cryo sleep lasted one hundred twenty-eight days.” _

Clarke wanted to throw up. Lexa was supposed to wake her up in six months, a year at the most so at least she could perform a physical. Clarke thought she had talked Lexa into breaking protocol and waking her more often, even letting Clarke stay awake with Lexa for weeks or months at a time. After all the time they had spent together already breaking protocol, Clarke had no worry that Lexa wouldn’t wake her from cryo. But from T’s information, it was apparent that Lexa had been waking doctors other than herself to perform her physicals. Like Lexa couldn’t even bare to see Clarke for the small amount of time it would take to complete. What had happened? What had changed? Why would Lexa condemn herself to spending the remainder of their journey alone? And why the fuck was she awake for over eight years when the plan had always just been five?

“Clarke!” Anya yells, breaking Clarke from her thoughts and bringing her back to the present. They’ve reached medbay and Clarke quickly types her code into the access panel opening the doors for the three of them to scramble inside and place a now groaning Lexa on the nearest table. 

“I think it’s appendicitis.” Clarke says, body on autopilot as she moves to gather everything needed to set Lexa up for an IV. 

“I agree.” Jackson confirms as he heads to the locked medical cabinet containing their precious store of drugs. “I don’t want to take the time to wake up an anesthesiologist. I say we just knock her out and get the appendix out as quickly as possible.” 

“Agreed.” Clarke says as she works on finding a vein in Lexa’s thin arm. “God, she’s so fucking dehydrated.” Lexa whines when Clarke fails for the second time to find a vein and her eyes start to flutter open. As much as Clarke wants to drop what she’s doing and move to comfort Lexa she ignores the urge and moves to secure a vein elsewhere on Lexa. 

“Cl...Clar?” Lexa questions groggily as she finally starts to come to.

Clarke allows herself to look up into dull green eyes once she’s successfully placed a line in Lexa’s hand. “I’m here, Lex.” Clarke coos as Jackson runs up with a filled syringe. “We’re going to fix you ok?” She reassures as Jackson injects the drug into Lexa’s IV. Clarke side steps the other doctor and reaches Lexa’s head, immediately running smoothing hands over greasy hair pulled up into a bun. Clarke bends to place her forehead against Lexa’s and nearly starts crying all over again when she feels Lexa’s free hand reach up to tangle in the hairs at the back of her neck, securing Clarke against her. 

“Hi.” Lexa sighs, the drugs already taking affect. 

“Hi, baby.” Clarke whispers back, fresh tears unable to be held back silently track down Clarke’s nose and onto Lexa’s. “You can go to sleep now, ok?” Clarke urges quietly, not caring about the audience her and Lexa share at the moment. “We’re going to fix you up. And then it will be my turn to be here when you wake up.”

Lexa barely manages a airy hum in agreement while her eyes close and her hand goes limp in Clarke’s hair. 

“Ok. Time to move.” Dr. Jackson urges as he comes back from washing his hands, instruments already grabbed and on a tray. Clarke hadn’t even realized he had left. “Wash up quickly and join me as quick as you can. We don’t know what it looks like in there, her appendix may not be intact any more. If that’s the case we need all the time the drug will allow us to try our best to clean her up.”

Clarke sobers immediately, gently pulling Lexa’s hand from her hair and setting to work washing her hands, gloving up, and grabbing the necessary tools needed to close Lexa’s abdomen. When Clarke makes it back to Lexa, Jackson and Anya had removed Lexa’s threadbare jumper and Jackson had already cut a small incision, opening Lexa up. Anya stood by green in the face and unable to tear her eyes away from the gloved fingers gently feeling inside her best friend's abdomen. 

“Anya.” Clarke says, gaining her attention. “You need to get to command and make sure everything on the ship is as it should be. You’ve done all you can here. The best thing to do now is stay out of the way.”

Anya nods and swallows dryly before quickly making her way out the medbay.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some more space drama. You know how it is...

**Lieutenant Commander Alexandria R. Woods**

**October 15th 2080**

  
  


“Ohhhh, Commander!” Anya’s sing-song voice called out to Lexa from the living space in their shared apartment. “Are you awake?”

“No.” Lexa grumbled as she pulled the duvet over her face and buried her head underneath her pillow. She hadn’t been able to fall asleep until the first hints of sunrise peeked through her windows and Anya’s loud, abrupt wake up call did nothing to aid Lexa’s already sour mood from her frequent lack of sleep. 

It seemed Anya either didn’t care about Lexa’s lack of sleep or was too excited about whatever she wanted to tell Lexa to wait for her to get at least a few hours of sleep. Lexa assumed it was a little of both.

“Lex!” Anya called again. This time from the other side of her closed door. “Put your pussy away, I’m coming in.”

“Jesus, Anya.” Lexa calls out, giving up any chance of sleep and tearing her blanket off in defeat. “What the fuck do you want?” 

“What I want…” Anya says while swinging the door open and moving to plop herself at the end of Lexa’s bed. “Is to have a good day with my friend kicking that simulator's ass.” 

Lexa glares daggers at her friend. “Why the fuck would you wake me up early for that, Anya? You know we’re at the point where we just have the put in the required hours every day, it doesn’t matter when we show up. So, unless you’re looking to get your ass kicked, I’d suggest you get out of my room and let me get some sleep.” Lexa finishes by rolling away from Anya, giving her her back and doing her best to ignore the other woman's presence. It’s silent for about eight seconds.

“Well, I was thinking…”

“Gahh!” Lexa cries out in frustration. “What?!” She rolls to face Anya who is sporting a barely suppressed grin, no doubt getting a kick out of Lexa’s frustration. 

“If we get our hours in early, then we can have the night to fuck off. Drinking, playing games, hanging out with friends.” Anya shrugs nonchalantly, not too eager to reveal how much her heart is truly set on the idea. But Lexa knows better. Lexa knows they only have a couple more weeks till they launch. Just two more weeks to enjoy their planet, as broken as it may be, and soak in the freedom of just being before they get shot into the unknown. Giving up ones freedom to save the human race was a simple choice for Lexa but she can’t hold it against Anya for wanting to enjoy some of her last days on earth. 

Mind made up already, Lexa mocks grumbling about Anya’s suggestion, milling over the worth of getting out of bed early. As if they both don’t already know there is no way Lexa will be able to fall back asleep. Lexa hems and haws until she get’s her desired response from Anya. Rolled eyes and a hard shove before her best friend rolls off the bed. “Come on Commander. Let’s have a little fun before we go, huh?” 

“If that’s what you want.” Lexa replies as she drags her tired body out of bed. “And it’s Lieutenant Commander, Anya.”

“Whatever, Grumpy.” Anya calls over her shoulder as she leaves Lexa’s room. “Get dressed and be ready to go in five, we’ve still got to go get supplies for tonight.”

  
  


**Lieutenant Anya M. Stone**

**October 15th, 2080**

Anya’s belly had had the sensation it was flipping for nearly a full week now. She woke up with the overwhelming feeling in the mornings and was lulled asleep by it at night. A few whiskeys in and the sensation was finally starting to dull, permitting Anya’s body to remind her of all the mostly neglected commodities the flipping of her stomach had been outshining and leaving at the wayside. She was fucking hungry. 

“Are you guys hungry?” Anya asks as she gets up from the couch, jostling a nearly sleeping Lexa on the other side of the couch to attention. 

“Hmm, what?” Lexa responds, righting the half tipped beer in her hands and taking a sip so as to act casual and like she hadn’t been about to fall asleep. 

Anya just rolls her eyes and points to Clarke who was busy sketching on the unopened envelope of Anya’s credit card statement. “Hot doctor!” Anya calls out. She can hear Lexa tsk at her nickname but Clarke just smiles and looks up from her doodling. 

“Yes, bossy pilot?” Clarke asks, balancing her pen on the arm of the end chair. 

“Don’t let this one fall asleep while I go snarf down on some leftovers.” Anya swings her pointed finger accusingly back at Lexa. “I wanna play a game when I get back.” 

“Aye aye.” Clarke mock salutes and pushes herself up off the chair, moving to take Anya’s place on the couch. 

Anya turns on her heel and makes her way to the kitchen tossing a “thanks Doc” over her shoulder and catching a glimpse of the blonde scooting closer to Lexa on the couch and playfully bumping shoulders with her. Anya scoffs at the subtle show of affection before opening the fridge to forage. The end of the world was a bad time to fall in love but Anya had still seen the signs over the past few weeks from both of her friends. As much as the both of them loved to deny, Clarke and Lexa had teenage, smitten, puppy dog looks of love on their faces as they interacted when they thought no one was looking. But Anya was looking. Well maybe not now as she pulled out the jar of pickles and half of a burrito. One of the worst things about leaving the fucking planet was trying to eat everything in the fridge. It was worse than moving. Anya dove her fingers in the pickle jar, fishing for one of the last in the brine as she peeked around the corner at the two on the couch. The pair had drifted even closer together and Clarke was now “inspecting” whatever ailment the two of them had made up in order to justify Clarke manipulating Lexa’s fingers with her own. 

**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

**October 15th, 2080**

“I don’t know how you manage to grip anything with the way you’ve mangled your hands.” Clarke states as she feels the damaged state Lexa’s hands were in. She ran her fingers along long slender fingers, squeezing gently at each knuckle, feeling the injuries Lexa had incurred over the years. 

“They get a little stiff sometimes but I have some exercises that help loosen them up if it ever gets too bad.” Lexa says, flexing her hand resting in Clarke’s palm and raising her eyebrow suggestively.

“If you’re about to make some kind of pervy joke you can just go ahead and stop while you’re ahead.” Clarke jokes as she drops Lexa’s hand and throws her a playful glare. 

“Oh, it wouldn’t be a joke, ma’am.” Lexa quips, dramatically twinning her hands together to crack them audibly. “These puppy’s have seen and done things you wouldn’t believe.”

“Oh gross.” Clarke scoffs, pushing herself away from the flirtatious pilot. 

Clarke had grown used to seeing this side of the pilot. Playful and charming. A far stretch from their first meetings. But the warming of her core when around the beautiful brunette never seemed to cease. If only, the closer they got the worse Clarke’s symptoms became. She found herself smiling like a schoolgirl when she was reading a text from Lexa. Butterflies took over Clarke’s abdomen whenever Lexa touched her to get her attention or to add emphasis on a story she was telling of one of her many adventures with Anya. And worst of all was the slow, molten heat that filled Clarke’s core whenever they were alone for any amount of time. They inevitably always found themselves sitting conspiratorially close to one another, whispering their innermost thoughts and dreams, sharing secrets, and teasing each other mercilessly. 

“Oh come on, _ Doctor Griffin. _ Don’t tell me your hands haven’t seen some weird shit.” Lexa argues as she reaches for Clarke's own hand, squeezing on her palm with both her hands, causing the involuntary spreading of her fingers. “How many body cavities have these things been in?” 

“That’s a good question actually.” Clarke ponders, reveling in the feeling of Lexa flipping her hand palm up to massage at her fleshy palms. “I wonder if any doctor has ever actually counted how many times their hands have actually been inside of a patient before. It sounds pretty gross and weird though to keep track honestly.”

“Like only a doctor with a god complex would do that type of thing?” Lexa asks. 

“Yeah.” Clarke agrees. “My hands have seen and been in some gross shit but it’s not just to add another tally to my scorecard, you know? I do it because that’s what needs to happen at that time to make someone better. To take away their pain.”

“And that, Clarke, is why you were chosen to be a part of the mission.” Lexa says softly, surely. “We’ll all feel safer knowing you are around to watch over us.”

Clarke nearly gapes at the comment. She knows her skill and knowledge is what got her assigned to the mission over hundreds of other doctors who put their names forward when the expedition was announced. But hearing it from the woman who just a couple months before had insinuated that her mother's position played a major role in the reason why Clarke was where she was today made Clarke giddy and proud. “You’re damn right.” Clarke grinned and teased, squeezing Lexa’s hand back. “But don’t expect any special treatment.”

“No ma’am.” Lexa accepts, tipping her head reverently. 

“Wow.” Anya says, announcing her presence behind the couch with hands on her hips, jolting the two women apart like they had been caught with their hands in a cookie jar. “That was the gayest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up, An.” Lexa growls, her face turning red and becoming suddenly very occupied with peeling the label from her beer bottle. 

Clarke just laughs and scoots into the middle of the couch, patting the empty space beside her and smiling at Anya as she rounds the couch. “Ok, hotshot. What’s this game you want to play?”

Anya grins and plops herself heavily on the couch next to Clarke and she has to hold back the massive grin she feels wanting to take over her face as Anya dives into describing the silly game she had made up. Even now, just a couple short weeks from leaving the Earth behind them, Clarke found herself content and happy with the people she was spending her last days on the planet with.

***

It was a couple rounds into the game when Raven finally showed up with a fresh wave of energy, ready to handle the abundance of enthusiasm Anya had for the night. 

“Oh, thank god.” She heard Lexa mumble under her breath as Anya and Raven went to take a midnight dip in the apartment complex’s heated pool. 

Clarke just chuckled and stood from the couch, heading to the kitchen for a couple glasses of water. “So, Lexa.” She called from the kitchen. “Any idea as to why Anya is so hellbent on us getting wild and crazy tonight?”

“I’ll give you one guess.” Lexa answers sleepily from the couch.

“I’m sure I don’t even have to say it.” Clarke says as she rounds back round the couch, depositing a glass of water into Lexa’s thankful hands before sitting next to the Lieutenant Commander and sipping at her own.

It’s clear to everyone why Anya suddenly had the notion for them all to let loose tonight and act on all their impulses. It could very well be the last night they were ever afforded such luxuries. And when Lexa takes a few gulps from her glass and levels Clarke with her green eyes, Clarke knows she doesn’t even have to say anything for them to be on the same page. 

“Is there anything you regret not doing with your time on Earth?” Clarke asks instead, settling deeper into the couch and pulling a leg to tuck underneath her. 

“Sure.” Lexa shrugs. “Lot’s of things. Don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.” Clarke chuckles grimly, thinking of all the things she wouldn’t do. Things she wouldn’t see. Places she wouldn’t go.

“But that’s why we're doing this, right?” Lexa asks, regaining Clarke’s attention. “We might be missing out on some stuff but it’s so that future generations might not have to. And who's to say there aren’t things out there” Lexa gestures wildly with her hands at the air above their heads “that we would have missed out on if we stayed.” 

“That’s true.” Clarke contemplates, finding it hard to imagine the things they could discover and experience in space when the whole notion of space was rather unfathomable to Clarke. “And here I thought you were just some fancy pilot trying to add another line of accomplishments to your bio.” Teases Clarke, suddenly desperate to lighten the mood. To change the course of this conversation.

Lexa seems to see right through Clarke’s sudden bout of unease and pulls on Clarke’s pinky finger, gaining her full attention. “I know you’re going out there to take care of us,” Lexa starts, her eyes warm and glowing from the drinks they had already had. “But me and An and Ray. We’re all going to be looking out for you too. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe out there, Clarke. I promise.” Lexa squeezes Clarke’s finger for emphasis and doesn’t show any signs of discomfort at the sudden appearance of tears in Clarke’s eyes, even though Lexa had told Clarke multiple times how uncomfortable people crying made her. Instead Lexa leans across the space between them to wrap Clarke up in a comforting hug. Holding Clarke against her chest while Clarke does her best to control her emotions before leaning back and wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks with her thumbs. 

“Come on, Doctor.” She urges as she stands from the couch and reaches for one of Clarke’s fingers again, hauling her from the couch. “I’m afraid if we leave Anya and Raven alone for too long they’ll end up fucking in the pool.” 

“They wouldn’t!” Clarke laughs, standing and thankful for the distraction. 

“No regerts.” Lexa teases as she pulls Clarke by her ring finger towards the apartment door. 

**Lieutenant Anya M. Stone**

**Days In Space: 3,049**

Anya’s been staring into the nothingness of space for an indiscernible amount of time. The Earth long gone from view and only distant stars barely visible for Anya’s eyes to lock onto. They had been in space for over eight years now and Anya had only really been present for not even a year of that time. She had spent over seven years in cryo, blissfully unaware of the pain Lexa had been going through for eight years. Eight years of life that she spent alone. The longest amount of time they had spent apart before then was maybe a couple of months. First when Anya graduated from high school and went off to college to study business a couple hours drive from Lexa and her high school and then when Lexa graduated three years later and had suddenly joined the air force. It didn't take Anya long to ditch the degree she didn’t care about and enlist herself, never one to let Lexa run off alone and try to get herself killed. 

They had met as children in a foster home where most of the kids were only there because they were between places. Most of them waiting on the paperwork to finally be filed before they were adopted or placed into more permanent foster homes. But Anya and Lexa fell through the cracks together and they stayed in that home for four years. Four years that Anya spent watching over the six year old with a chip on her shoulder and a death wish. Four years they spent crawling into each other's beds when the nightmares became too real. They had grown so close and obstinate about leaving each other at the end of those years that both of them had given up chances of being adopted because it meant leaving the other behind. It wasn’t until a couple offered to foster them together permanently when they were ten and thirteen did they even consider leaving the home bursting with troubled and abandoned children. They had never been separated for as long as they had known each other, Anya had made sure of it. And even though Anya had been physically close to Lexa the past eight years, Lexa had been unequivocally, alone. 

“Anya.” Clarke’s voice croaks from the darkness behind Anya. “An, are you ok?” The doctor asks as she sidles up alongside the seated pilot in the command room. 

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about?” Anya asks in lieu of a response. She turns to face Clarke. Her blue eyes stand out against the redness rimming her eyes and her hair is a wild mess of blonde waves piled atop her head in a messy bun. Her shoulders lay slack and exhausted and Clarke’s mouth seems to be in a permanent, quivering frown. The Doctor doesn’t seem to have the energy to ask Anya what she’s been mulling over the hours she’s been waiting in the command room on news of her best friend. She just looks at Anya with exhausted tears in her eyes.

“She’s forty one.” She says and Anya hears Clarke’s deep intake of breath at the realization, shit, Anya’s breath is nearly ripped from her chest and she’s the one saying it. 

“Forty one.” She says, disbelievingly. “I’ve always been the oldest. The one that looked out for her. And now...there’s more years between us then there ever was.”

“An.” Clarke starts but stops, realizing she didn’t really have anything to say. Anya just watched the fact slowly sink into Clarke and destroy her a little. 

“How is she?” Anya breaks the silence after not being able to watch the look on Clarke’s face anymore. 

“Alive.” Clarke sighs and falls into a nearby chair. “Alive but in pain. We didn’t have enough time to wake someone up to put her fully under.” She explains. “We just loaded her up on morphine and opened her up. It was so close, An. We could have lost her.” Clarke’s voice breaks during that statement and Anya pushes herself up from her own seat to comfort her friend. She wraps the doctor up in her embrace and feels Clarke shudder in her arms, finally letting herself cry. 

“Why would she do that?” Clarke asks into Anya’s shoulder. “Why would she spend so much time alone when she knows we would have been happy to spend that time with her?” Clarke pulls her face away from Anya’s shoulder to stare angrily into her eyes. “Why would she just give herself up like that? Didn’t she think about us, An? How we would feel?”

“Because that’s who she is, Clarke.” Anya answers. “Because she was asked to put the mission ahead of anything else in her life and Lexa would never take any of her responsibilities lightly.”

“Well, it’s not good enough.” Clarke growls and moves to escape Anya’s embrace. “She left us!” Clarke burst through tears. “She left us ignorant and unaware while she grew old alone and without us! How could she do that to us!? To herself!?” 

“Clarke! Clarke.” Anya hurries to try to calm Clarke’s rage with soft eyes and touches along her arms and back, following her while she paces the circular room full of instruments and screens. “I don’t know what happened between you two while I was in cryo but I can tell you what I knew about how she felt before.” The blonde continues to pace and fume while Anya stops in the middle of her track turning her body to face Clarke during her rounds. “She was completely and utterly enraptured by you, Clarke. You gave her calm and peace and warmth in a world she had only known to hurt her. You made her smile and laugh and you touched her so softly that I would watch her melt every time you walked into a room. And I’m guessing that if you had the time I think you did together after I went into cryo, then I’m guessing she is very much in love with you.” 

Clarke stops her pacing, her back to Anya but Anya can still see the sobs making Clarke’s shoulders shake. She slowly approaches Clarke and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “And if Lexa loves you like I think she does, then I know exactly why she wouldn’t wake you up.”

Clarke turns in Anya’s arms to face her, her face solemn and resigned. “Why?” Clarke’s voice cracks out. 

“To save you.” 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuckin' buckets this took me forever to update. I find myself pretty distracted of late but I've been slowly plugging along at this so thanks for sticking around. :D I've been working on some other stories too but plan on posting them once they're completed so I don't do this to myself ever again. haha. Ok. Well, be good to each other out there and I'm sure there are some mistakes in there


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I'm sorry it has taken so long to update this. It will be finished. Just not as timely as I initially thought. If anyone is still on board with this, THANK YOU! All mistakes belong to my dumb ass self and please enjoy <3

  
  


**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

**Days in Space 3,050**

Clarke had dimmed the lights in med bay hours ago in the hopes of getting a little _ real _sleep while leaving the space as warm and welcoming as space could feel for a woman waking from a life saving surgery. Possibly confused, probably in pain. But sleep never came and instead Clarke was left staring at the woman she loved lay sleeping on the thinly padded hospital bed. 

If they were back on Earth, Lexa would be in a plush bed with warm blankets and too many pillows. A soap playing quietly on the tv as background noise and a cup of juice sealed with foil, a straw dashed through the top and her charming smirk on full display as nurses chided her for not taking her health seriously as they checked her vitals. Clarke would have caught Lexa’s illness leagues before it was at any real risk to harm her. She would have complained about a stomach pain as she bent to tie her boots and Clarke would have examined her, teasing her about the probability of it just being gas as she pressed teasing fingers along the hemline of Lexa’s underwear. Clarke would have frowned at what she felt there and lead Lexa by her littlest finger to the hospital for a second opinion, run some labs, and then kissed Lexa gently to sleep as they put her under for a routine procedure. Promises of cuddles and trashy tv once she woke up. 

Instead Lexa laid still and pale on a cold table, a thin metallic heat blanket draped over her naked frame, the chill air of the station trying it’s hardest to turn her usually plump red lips, blue and chapped. Her eyes sunken and circled with grey bags, her forehead creased with frown lines, the corners of her mouth bearing the same marks of years spent alone worrying over the lives of everyone on board. Even Lexa’s hair had begun to grey. Clarke had carded her hands through familiar brown curls only to uncover streaks of steel grey. 

What had Lexa been thinking? Why would she leave Clarke in cryo so long? How could she have lied to Clarke’s face so easily? Kissed her sweetly with a lie on her tongue and left Clarke floating timeless in space while she aged and carried the burden of humanity's future on her own shoulders? How?

Clarke wipes the errant tears from her cheeks and fights back the urge to shake the sickly woman lying unconscious before her. 

“You fucking asshole.” Clarke tries to laugh through her fresh bout of tears. “The hot shot pilot who always has to be the hero.”

And then the corner of Lexa’s mouth twitches and her scratchy voice fills the stale air between them. “Someone has to make your ass look good in all the history books.” 

“You fucking…” Clarke cries out. Leaping from her seat next to Lexa and grabbing her face in her hands and planting a rough kiss to Lexa’s lips. 

“Ow! Jesus Clarke.” Lexa mumbles, opening her eyes and smiling, tears of her own filling her eyes. “Do that again.” 

“Fuck you.” Clarke laughs and proceeds to plant as many kisses as she can to Lexa’s lips, her cheeks, her eyes, brow and chin. Her ears and neck and nose. 

“Could you please stop swearing at me, darling?” Lexa giggles and weakly reaches for Clarke’s elbows, keeping her adoring kisses in place. “I’ve missed you very much and would like this moment to be a little more loving.”

“More…? Lexa you left me in cryo while you let yourself practically rot alone! I’m allowed to be mad at you.”

“Yes. Yes of course you are but please. Later.” Lexa rasped. “Right now I need love and affection and those little ice chips you get from the hot nurses in recovery.”

Clarke can’t help but chuckle and roll her eyes. “You’ll never change will you?’’

“That’s why you love me.” Lexa raised a pitifully weak eyebrow and looked longingly around the room for water. “But please, Clarke…”

“I got you.” Clarke said, reaching for the bottle of water she had placed on the floor next to her chair and breaking the seal. “Guess it’s my turn to wake you up with one of these.” 

“Hah.” Lexa replied dryly, reaching desperately for the bottle and guzzling the entirety of it down once it reached her lips. “Oh Jesus fucking tits that’s amazing. God, why does everything hurt. I feel like I have a hangover from hell.”

“Well.” Clarke chuckled. “It’s because you do. We didn’t have the time to fully sedate you so we just pumped you full of morphine to knock you out.”

“Oh.” Lexa said, seemingly surprised at that. “Didn’t think I’d ever relive my college years but here I am.”

“What morphine?” 

“God no.” Lexa says. “Hungover as fuuuuck.” 

“You’re an idiot.” Clarke says, running her hand over Lexa’s forehead and smoothing her hair down the crown of her head. “And I love you.”

“I love you.” Lexa says, dropping all playfulness from her tone and fixing Clarke with her viridian gaze. “So much.” 

“I know baby.” Clarke says. “I know.” 

“I’m sorry.” Lexa says. She grabs for Clarke’s hands and brings them to her mouth, placing placating kisses to her knuckles. “I had no choice.”

“You always have a choice, Lex.” Clarke says, fresh tears wanting to break free at Lexa’s sudden change in tone.

“Not this time, baby.” Lexa shakes her head slowly. Seriously. “Believe me. I spent months, years, trying to escape this path for us. You need to believe I did. I would never willingly give you up.” 

“Lex…” Clarke pleads. She can’t hear this right now. Being mad at Lexa is easier than dealing with the reasoning behind her betrayal. 

“No Clarke, listen. I couldn’t. I couldn’t say goodbye to you for the longest time. Years. My selfishness broke protocol day after day for you and I don’t regret it. But the survival of the human race is bigger than you and I. Than my feelings.”

“Lex.” Clarke says, feeling left behind. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about? If you knew the mission was going to last this long... our systems are more than capable of running automatically without a living pilot. You could have placed yourself in cryo with me. You should have.”

“Clarke.” Lexa pleads. “You don’t understand.” 

“Well then help me understand.” 

“Indra she...Ground control reached out a few years in and-”

“Griffin.” Raven’s frantic voice called out over the loudspeakers. “Clarke I need you in the command room immediately.”

Lexa’s eyes went wide and she gripped Clarke’s arms painfully. “You woke up Reyes?!”

“Of course I woke up Raven. I needed her to help double check the life support systems. And Anya was having a hard time breaking through a line of code you had placed in as a firewall. We needed her.”

“Who else, Clarke?” Lexa asked seriously, her pupils drawing down to points and her face growing pale. 

“Just Jackson to help with your surgery...Lex what’s-”

“Clarke!” Raven’s voice called over the speaker again. “Now!”

Clarke pressed her comm line on her jumper and yelled into the room. “I’ll be right there, Ray. Give me a few minutes.”

“NOW, Dr. Griffin.” Raven corrected.

Clarke rolled her eyes and made to leave.

“No!” Lexa panicked, not releasing her grip on Clarke. “Clarke don’t go.”

“Lexa.” Clarke says, giving her room to explain herself. 

“Whatever Raven found. Whatever you see. It was out of my control. Clarke, I had no choice.”

“What are you saying?” Clarke asks. She pulls herself free from a manic woman she only barely recognized. “Lexa what did you do?”

The Commander made to get up then, groaning in pain and fighting against Clarke’s hands trying to force her back into a lying position. “Lexa!” Clarke warns. “You’ll pull a stitch. Lie down!”

“Clarke, no!” Lexa begs, pushing hard against Clarke in retaliation and making ready to stand. “I’m not ready. I need more time. To tell you. To show you. It wasn’t meant to happen like this!”

“Lexa!” Clarke cries. “Lexa, calm down. I’ll be right back. This could be serious.”

“No!” Lexa yells. She pushes herself off the bed falling naked to the cold floor clinging at Clarke’s ankles. “Clarke, please. Please stay!”

“Lexa!” Clarke yells back. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Clarke!” Raven’s voice calls again. “Now!”

“Clarke!” Lexa begs. 

“I’m sorry.” Clarke cries. "I'll be right back I promise!" She pulls herself away from Lexa’s desperate but weak grasp and leaves the woman laying on the med bay floor, crying now and calling after Clarke to come back. 

“I’m sorry!” Clarke calls over her shoulder as she runs through the hissing med bay doors and they close behind her, muffling Lexa’s frantic pleads. 

“Raven!” Clarke calls over the comms. “I’m on my way.”

“Fucking finally.” Raven responds. “Where’s Lex?”

“In med bay still. She’s...she’s still out.” Clarke lies. 

“Good.” Raven responds. “Now get your ass over her asap.” 

  
  


**Lieutenant Commander Alexandria R. Woods**

**Days in Space: 3,050**

A fear and panic so pure and strong ran through Lexa as she pulled her weak form towards the bay doors, desperate to chase after Clarke and stop her. Her breathing coming in short shallow gasps, the pain in her abdomen doubling and her heart beating so furiously it felt like it was racing it’s own shadow up Lexa’s throat and out into the void of space. The void Lexa had dutifully been residing alone for the past five years. The void she was meant to spend the rest of her days in. Watching over and caring for her people. For the woman she loved. She had said her goodbyes earlier. Had dealt with the emotional trauma. Had pretended to move on. 

But this. Clarke returning to her. Lexa wasn’t prepared for this. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Never in Lexa’s wildest dreams did she think she would hear Clarke’s voice again. She never thought she would have to witness the moment Clarke discovered the horrors hiding within their ship and have to explain it all. No. That had been the one consoling fact about this whole affair. Clarke never had to know. It was only meant to be Lexa’s burden to bear. And so she wept. She cried for her sacrifice. For Clarke's. For every soul on this ship. And she wept because Lexa had never wanted this. 

**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

**Days in Space 3,050**

Clarke’s panting by the time she makes it to the control room, tears streaking down her face and a knot in the pit of her stomach.

“Clarke.” Raven says somberly as Clarke stumbles into a dark scene. Anya leans against the nearest wall, white as a ghost and crying silently. Jackson sits with a dumbfounded look on his face in the commander's seat and Raven looks at Clarke with more pity than she thought capable of any living person.

“What is it?” Clarke huffs out breathless. Looking to each of her team members in turn, waiting for an explanation. 

“I…” Raven starts and stops. “I had no idea, Clarke. None of us did.”

“No idea of what?” Clarke asks, dread sitting heavily in the pit of her stomach. 

“Lexa she…” Raven bites her lower lip and looks to Anya crying into her hands now. “I don’t know how to tell you this but I don’t think it was Lexa’s intention to have us wake up any time during _ her _lifetime.”

“What?”

“Clarke…” Raven starts but her eyes widen as the doors hiss open behind Clarke and quiet footsteps fill the tense space. 

“Hello, Clarke.” A familiar voice says. Clarke stills. 

“As silly as this may sound...I’ve missed you terribly.”

Clarke turns toward the familiar voice. Not the raspy, sickly, panicked voice she left in med bay. But the smooth and confident voice of years past, the voice still youthful and full of life she used to fall asleep next to on a couch. 

There standing not five feet away was an exact replica of Lexa but younger. Much younger. Younger than Clarke had ever seen her. Her face resembling that of Lexa’s when she was in college. Her jawline still sharp, always sharp, but her cheeks more full and youthful, her curves less defined. 

The young Lexa smiles timidly and steps closer to Clarke, clasping her hands together nervously in front of her. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.” 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *smiles nervously

**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

**Days in Space 3,050**

“Lexa.”

Clarke had returned to med bay, shaken and light headed, heart pounding and still somehow empty to find the room equally empty of the woman who was meant to reside in both of them. It didn’t take long with T’s help to track down the Lt. Commander slouched against the wall at the end of the cot in her quarters. Sweating with the pain of the trek across the ship and anxiety (no doubt knowing what Clarke had become aware of in her absence), wrapped in a threadbare blanket. 

“Clarke.” Lexa said lowly, raising her eyes from her own tangled fingers in her lap to Clarke’s. “I...I don’t know what to say.”

“The truth would be a good start.” Clarke snaps back angrily. “Was this your plan all along? Was I just a means to pass the time while you worked on your little science experiment?”

“No.” Lexa whispers, shaking her head and obviously fighting tears. “No.” 

“Then what, Lexa!?” Clarke closes the distance between them to pull Lexa’s knees apart and force herself into Lexa’s space. Lexa had never been good at actually listening to Clarke during confrontations unless Clarke forced her presence upon Lexa. It wasn’t that Lexa didn’t care. It was just that the wider picture was easier for Lexa to wrap her thoughts around then the more menial ideas of interpersonal relationships. It was something Clarke had learned the years they spent alone together on the ship. 

“I...I..” 

“Baby.” Clarke encourages, reaching out for the familiar face wrapped in years of new experiences Clarke wasn’t privy to. 

“I didn’t know!” Lexa spits out. Reaching to grasp Clarke’s wrists, keeping her hands connected to Lexa’s face. “It wasn't until we were attached to AlphaOne that Ground even told me the truth about our vessel. Of how it worked. How it lived.”

“What are you talking about?” Clarke asked. “Lived?”

“What are the possibilities of us finding a habitable planet, Clarke?” Lexa asks in return.

Clarke tsks her tongue, unwilling to play along. 

“What are they Clarke?” Lexa urges

“Small.” Clarke gives.

“Smaller than small.” Lexa agrees. “So small we couldn’t even pretend to comprehend and still we’re here, floating through an endless void in search of that chance.”

“Sure ok. Fine. I get it, Lex. We knew this when we started. We all did. What does this have to do with anything?”

“It has everything to do with it, Clarke!” And Lexa squeezed Clarke’s forearms to drive her point home. 

“WE are the alien life form now. Our ship. Our atoms... It takes more than just an automated pilot to lead us through the unknown.”

“But T…”

“T is an approximation of human consciousness, Clarke. She’s capable and comforting and without faults but that isn’t human. To find humanities next home, Clarke, we need to be as human as we can in this empty void.”

“I still don’t understand.” Clarke shook her head. Lexa wasn’t making any sense. Humans in space were never natural. None of this was natural. That was the point. That was why this mission was so dangerous. Why a select few were chosen to leave while the rest of humanity was left to die along with it’s dying earth. Why chyro was so important. Becoming ageless helped with those insurmountable odds. Because whatever they might face out here could be worse than slowly burning up on the earth's surface.

“This ship requires life, Clarke.” Lexa explains. “It took me years to wrap my head around and to accept. It was never meant to be a vessel floating through time carrying frozen passengers. It’s humanity finding a new home. It _ needs _humanity to guide it there.”

“And what?” Clarke scoffs. “You were the chosen one? The selfless soul to bring us to our new home?”

“No.” Lexa chuckles and shakes her head. “I was the arrogant pilot who signed up for this job only aware of the half of it.”

“And the other half?” Clarke pushed.

“The other half I was told two years into our time together here.”

“Two? Two years?! And you spent the remaining year with me not communicating this?”

“Clarke, I was commanded not to.”

“YOU’RE THE COMMANDER!” Clarke argues.

“This is bigger than us, Clarke!” Lexa cries out. “Why can’t you understand that!? This is the continuation of the human race. I was asked to choose between a happily ever after with you and the survival of our species. It wasn’t a choice.”

“Lexa!” Clarke yells back. “I’m not mad about the choice you made. I’m mad because you didn’t think me capable of dealing with it! You left me in the dark and fed me lies! Do you really think so little of me that I would have chosen the selfish option? To let the whole of humanity die out so we could spend a millennia in space together? I may be a romantic, Lexa, but I’m not insane.” 

“You don’t get it, Clarke.” Lexa sighs. She stands from her bed and invades Clarke’s space, pressing her back until her back hits the opposite wall and still Lexa pushes into Clarke’s body. “This wasn’t a manipulation of you. It was of me. I was the pawn that Ground was using the whole time without my knowledge. The pawn this whole game depended on. I was trained to be a pawn. A damn good one. Just another pilot willing to do what needed to be done. But with you in the picture, Clarke. You’re my Queen. I will bow to no other while you are there. You awake and living on this ship with me would always make you a priority for me over the mission. And Ground knew that. Baby, I didn’t put you in chyro with the intention of never waking you. I tried every day for three years to wake you but Ground has full override control of this ship as long as the signal can reach us. I even tried to block the signals. I would have gladly followed along with the plans as long as you were by my side but it seems that isn’t the plan laid out for me.”

Clarke can only stare open mouthed at the woman she loves. She swallows and reaches for Lexa’s hips, running her thumbs into the familiar hollows of her joints. Lexa shivers. “I…”

Clarke breathes deep to compose her thoughts. “I still don’t understand why.” She says. “If Ground needed someone awake to run the ship and provide it humanity like you’ve said. Then why couldn’t I be there with you? Wouldn’t two of us be better than one? Why would they feel the need to take control from you AND keep you awake?”

“Because.” Lexa says.

“Because why?” Clarke pushes.

“Because you are the President's daughter.”

“No.” Clarke says. “She wouldn’t.” 

“Clarke…”

“Don’t tell me my mother knew about all of this.” Clarke says, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“She...she didn’t at first. That’s why I was able to put you in and take you back out for a time. Ground could see that you were in cryo but as soon as they dug deeper and saw that you weren’t _ staying _in cryo...well they must have told your mother.” 

“So what? She found out I was staying out of cryo with you and locked me in cryo from Ground the next time I was? And what happened to you going into cryo Lex? They told us 5 years. 5 years you’d have to stay awake to make sure all was running smoothly before being put in cryo yourself.” 

“I was never given the full story from Indra about your mother but yeah, something like that. And as for the 5 years...well.” Lexa shrugs in acknowledgement of the obvious.

“So you were right all along?” Clarke seethes. “I would always just be the President's little girl. How could she do this to me?” 

“No. No, Clarke you are so much more.” Lexa reaches for Clarke’s face, hooking her thumbs under Clarke’s jaw and meeting her gaze. “Her actions may have been selfish but over time I’ve come to realize however wrong the choice was...the result was the proper one.”

“What?!” Clarke cries and tries to pull away from Lexa’s surprisingly strong grip of her.

“Listen to me, Clarke, please!” Lexa begs. “You’re too important. To me. To your mother. But most importantly to this mission. The human race needs every moment of your time. You are the future, Clarke. I can’t imagine having to colonize a new planet without you.”

“And you expect me to do all that without _ you _? Do you realize how hypocritical you’re being.”

Lexa chuckles softly and loosens her grip on Clarke allowing her to pull away if she wanted to. She stays.

“Oh I do.” Lexa says. “But I didn’t have a choice. They _ took _you from me. But now that it’s all said and done... I mean look at you. Look at me.” Lexa waves her hands at their appearances, the obvious age difference. “Now I get a hot young girlfriend.” She jokes with a weak smile.

“And who’s to say I’m still your girlfriend after this shit?” Clarke says and watches Lexa’s face fall. “Oh Lex, I was only-”

“No. No it’s ok.” Lexa interjects. “It was a pretty big assumption of me to make. I’m not sure how I would feel if I woke from cryo to find a clone of you walking around.”

“Besides lucky?” Clarke jokes, desperate to draw Lexa from the thought that she could ever not want her.

Lexa just chuckles darkly and looks off to the side. She swallows hard trying to compose herself. 

“I guess there is a newer, shinier model of me probably being grilled by Reyes right now. You could always get a do-over with her.” 

Lexa’s attempt at nonchalance falls flat with her mood and instead of answering, Clarke silently steps back from the Commander. Lexa’s head jerks up at the movement, sadness filling her eyes at the sight of Clarke stepping back from her and moving to the head of the small bed. Clarke makes sure to maintain eye contact with the pilot as she shucks off her jumper and crawls onto the bed in her underwear and regulation tank top. She settles as comfortably as she can on the hard bed and motions for Lexa to join her, opening her arms and smiling shyly. 

“Come here, wrinkles.”

Lexa’s lip quivers and silent tears fall down her cheeks as she groans in pain and slowly shuffles her way into Clarke’s arms, nuzzling into the crook of her arm and diving her nose into the space behind Clarke’s ear, smelling her deeply. 

“I still need answers.” Clarke says, running her fingers over the arm draped over her midsection.

“I know.” Lexa says. 

“Like how I’m awake if you were locked out of my control panel for the pod? And why there’s a fucking clone of you walking around?”

“Be nice to her...me...” Lexa mumbles into Clarke’s neck. “I’m sure this is all a lot for her right now. Besides T, I’m the only person she’s ever talked to. I’m sure Reyes is scaring her half to death.”

“You’re defending it?” Clarke asks.

“She’s not an _ it, _ Clarke. It’s me.” Lexa corrects. “She has all of my memories, loves you just as much as I do, hates ketchup as much as I do. Remembers the way rain smells.”

“Then why would she be scared of Reyes if she has all your memories?” Clarke asks. “And how am I supposed to treat her if she’s in love with me?” Clarke’s insides flip at the sudden confusion and anxiety washing over her. Seeing a physical copy of Lexa walking around was a lot different than knowing it was an exact replica. 

“Well.” Lexa sighs, pushing herself to her side and leaning on an elbow to better look at Clarke. “She knows Raven. Likes Raven. But this is the first interaction she’s had with another human being. Plus she has experiences that I don’t have. She knows she’s a clone. Knows this isn’t how things were supposed to happen. She’s probably just as nervous as I am over how Anya will react. She is me having to come to terms with her situation. Is she real? Does she have a soul? Do these people I know and love think she’s even worth treating as a living being?” Lexa sighs again and crumples to the mattress and then groans in exhaustion. “I’m not that mad being the wrinkly original once I start to think about it.” 

Clarke’s mouth is dry. Her back is tight. Her eyes sting. And she is holding Lexa while another Lexa is being interrogated by Raven and Anya. It made Clarke’s heart ache and then her brain feel like it was turning to mush at all the implications. 

“You...you…” She starts. “We were never meant to wake and find two of you were we?” 

“No, Clarke.” Lexa whispers. Her eyes are fluttering closed with exhaustion.

“You were going to die alone in this place.”

“Not alone.” Lexa grumbles. “I had Lex.” 

“Were you going to let us think the clone was you once you died?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping she would make that decision once I was gone.”

A long silence took over them then. Clarke imagined waking from cryo to a clone of Lexa so flawless that Clarke would have fallen happily into her arms and bed. Unaware of the years passed. Of the fact that she wasn’t making love to Lexa. _ Her Lexa. _Not really. And Lexa was just going to let that happen? Let Clarke live a lie like that? It made Clarke’s insides crawl and she suddenly wanted to be as far away from the woman lying in her arms. This was a Lexa she didn’t know anymore. So much had happened to her and Clarke had been blissfully unawares. Unable to change along with Lexa, Clarke remained the woman madly in love with a cocky pilot while Lexa became a woman who accepted the fact that she would never hold Clarke again. Lexa had moved on. Come to terms with her depressing role in the survival of mankind. 

“How am I awake, Lexa? If you couldn’t wake me...how did T?”

“I don’t know.” Lexa shakes her head, dually answering the question and trying to stay awake. “I tried using T multiple times to get you out. I even rewrote some lines in her program trying to give her total free will. She wanted to wake you.” 

“Then how-oh my god.” Clarke gasped, her hand coming to her mouth. 

“What?” Lexa asks sleepily, her face tucked against the skin of Clarke’s arm already halfway asleep. 

“We lost communication with Ground.” Clarke explained to a now sleeping Lexa. “Either we passed beyond the reaches of their control or something happened back on Earth to disconnect us…We could be all that’s left....” 

And though the knowledge had always been known that at one point the inhabitants of AlphaOne could be the final survivors of Earth. The fact that it was happening now, that this could be the moment. That it could have happened months previously... It emptied Clarke. It emptied her and filled her with the inescapable vastness of space. 

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

**Days in Space: 789**

  
  


“Spaghetti.” 

“What?” Clarke asked turning from her reading to look over her shoulder at Lexa spinning slowly in the captain's chair of the control room. 

“I woke up thinking about it and can’t stop.” Said Lexa. 

“What? Spaghetti?” Clarke asked.

“Yeah.” Lexa said. 

“Well we have-” Clarke started but was interrupted by her companion scoffing with disgust.

“If I have to eat another freeze dried rendition of any of my favorite meals I’ll turn this god damn ship around.” Lexa pouts, continuing her slow rotation in the chair.

“Okay. Well that’s a little dramatic.” Clarke says, chuckling and standing from her own chair and laying her reading tablet on the seat behind. “It’s really not that bad.” 

“Says you.” Lexa whines.

“Ok. First of all. Stop.” Clarke says as she reaches Lexa and grabs the chair to still the Lt. Commander’s rotation. “How are you not dizzy? And second...well...suck it up.” 

Lexa’s spinning comes to a stop in front of Clarke. The pilot’s cheeks are blotchy with pent up emotion and her eyes are filled with impending tears. _ Spaghetti. Right. _

“Babe?” Clarke questions, softening her tone and dropping to her knee in front of Lexa. 

Lexa pushes Clarke back and stands hurriedly like the softness Clarke was showing was only pushing Lexa’s emotions into overdrive. She paces the control room, digging the heels of her palms in her eyes in a desperate attempt at holding back tears. 

“I just…” Lexa huffs “I just want some goddamn spaghetti and a glass of wine and a _ fresh _salad. I want the leaves to be big and crisp and still damp from being washed. Spaghetti!” 

“Jesus, Lex.” Clarke says taken aback. “Calm down for a second. Come here.”

“No don’t!” Lexa growls and rips her arm from Clarke’s attempted grab. “Don’t tell me to calm down. You’re not some fucking dude that tells women to calm down. I can be fucking mad. And _ emotional!” _Lexa added an intentional high pitched tone to the word ‘emotional’ and continued her angry pacing. 

“You’re right, Lexa.” Clarke started, willing herself to keep her own temper in check but still angry nonetheless at Lexa’s outburst. “I’m not some random dude telling you to calm down. I’m your fucking partner. You know...the woman you’ve been sleeping with for the past two years? If you would just calm down enough to effectively communicate with me that would be great. I just want to help you, babe.”

“I don’t!” Lexa strained and pivoted making a beeline straight for Clarke and quite pitifully slumping against her once she reached her. Taking a deep breath Clarke could hear close to her ear, Lexa continued on, “I don’t feel...good.”

Gently wrapping her arms around Lexa, Clarke started to run her hands comfortingly along the length of the pilot’s back. “I gathered as much.” Lexa scoffs and Clarke can feel dampness begin to bloom on her shoulder. “And if this is really about spaghetti then we’ll figure something out but my hunch is this isn’t about spaghetti.”

“It’s not about spaghetti.” Lexa’s voice, muffled by Clarke’s shoulder is weak and defeated and it scares Clarke because Lexa is never weak, never defeated. Every challenge they had come across the past two years, Lexa had handled with grace and ease. She was confident and strong and unshakingly brave. If she couldn’t be that this time, Clarke could be that for her. Clarke had come to the realization early on that she would do anything for the woman crying in her arms. Space travel included.

“Then what is it, baby?” 

“I can’t tell you…”

  
  
  
  
  


**Lieutenant Commander Alexandria R. Woods**

**Days in Space: 815**

  
  


“Mmm. Fuck, I missed this, Lex.” 

“Me too, baby.” Lexa said, looking down at the beautiful woman underneath her, doing her best to absorb and retain every sigh, every flush, every look of love. Everything. She refused to take Clarke for granted. Not that she thought she ever had but the past weeks had been...hard. Lexa was surprised Clarke didn’t just place herself into cryo to get away from the awkward tension that followed them throughout the cramped spaces of the ship. Fear of waking up to find Clarke in cryo kept Lexa awake at nights, kept her constantly running checks on the ships functions and patrolling the halls just outside the cryo decks. 

Lexa’s moment of weakness and breaking in front of Clarke and subsequent refusal to tell Clarke what it was that was bothering her had concluded in the cold shoulder and Clarke sleeping in her own quarters. Just when Lexa thought Clarke was going to let it go and they could get back to normal Clarke would ask questions again and Lexa would have to laboriously fend off the stubborn blondes attempts at digging the truth out of Lexa. Lexa wasn’t sure if she’d rather face the Clarke that knew her secret or the Clarke she was currently fighting with. Not that she could have chosen between the two. She didn’t have a choice. She had her orders. The choice had been made for her over three years ago by scientists in lab coats and suits in board meetings and the fucking president of the united states. Clarke’s mother. 

So they suffered each other's anger and resentment until the tension following them finally snapped. Over spaghetti, funnily enough. When T had announced what the scheduled meal was for the day, Clarke had stared daggers at Lexa and Lexa...laughed. If someone were to ask her what came over her, Lexa would have to say divine intervention.

Never would she have laughed at a look like that from Clarke. She would straighten her posture and stare back. She might bow her head in shame and slink off. She might even pretend like the word “spaghetti” wasn’t extremely triggering for them right now and simply request a different meal. But no. Instead Lexa laughed in Clarke’s face. 

At first, shock broke over Clarke’s face at Lexa’s outburst. Then anger. Confusion. And then, maybe because it was the least expected response from either of them, she laughed too. They laughed until they fell to their knees laughing, hanging onto the bulkhead or small mess table for support. They laughed until they were in pain from it and were left exhausted on the floor closer to each other than they had been in weeks. So close Lexa could smell Clarke’s natural scent. Her warm musk washing over Lexa like a spell. They held eyes silently for what felt like hours, communicating all the things they couldn’t say until Clarke blinked heavily, breaking herself from their trance and diving at Lexa. 

They met in the middle of the floor all searching hands and hard kisses. Bites of penance and licks of supplication. They hurriedly fucked on the floor, desperate to make up for lost time and seal festering wounds. Lexa barely remembered it. They had come out of their initial haze to lead each other gently with pushing kisses and pulling fingers to Lexa’s quarters to collapse on the bed, their legs tangled, to begin a slow grind against each other.

Lexa had always enjoyed slowly pulling pleasure from Clarke and she reveled in it now. The way Clarke would cling to her with her fingertips and then pull Lexa by her hips till she found the pressure and friction she needed. The sounds Clarke made when Lexa nipped at her collarbones and kissed her breasts. The look in Clarke’s eyes when Lexa would first enter her while whispering words of praise and love. And now in the way they slowly moved together, reconnecting and reminding each other of the strength of their bond. 

“Clarke.” Lexa husked, grinding hard against Clarke’s thigh and burying her face in golden locks. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Clarke pants back. Relinquishing her grip on Lexa’s ass to pull her face back to look into Lexa’s eyes. “So much, baby.” 

Lexa can’t help it. A slow line of tears silently roll down her cheek to land and pool in the divot of Clarke’s throat. “I’m sorry.” She says. “I would never keep anything from you if I could help it, I pro-”

“Shh. Not now.” Clarke hushes and kisses the tears from Lexa’s face. “Not now. I just want us back right now. Be here with me.”

“I’m here.” Lexa says, picking up their slow grind. “I’m here.”

  
  
  
  


**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

**Days in Space 815**

  
  


Clarke was still mad at Lexa for keeping things from her. Furious actually. Furious and hurt. But she had come to the conclusion while they ate spaghetti in Lexa’s bed that if Lexa needed her secrets, she could have them. As long as she could continue to have moments like these. Pressed side by side in nothing but underwear, leaning against the bulkhead looking through one of the precious windows of their craft, searching through the emptiness of space with poorly human eyes for the impossible. That and the make up sex was fantastic. 

The first year together on the ship had been a blur. With the excitement of a new relationship and settling into life on a spacecraft, Clarke had flourished. She had an entire ship filled with possibilities and Lexa. They spent countless hours pouring over schematics and maps(Clark mostly learning the skills Lexa had learned during training), playing games of I wonder if this or what if we find that. And when they weren’t busy combing through the stars for their next potential home, they would fall into each other. It was beautiful and it was terrifying. 

Clarke was flying through space at incomprehensible speeds, searching for a future with a woman she so desperately wanted a future with. A future impossible for the both of them. There would be no white picket fences. No rescue pets from the shelter, sleeping in distorted rectangles of sun on a rug. No camping trips. No family Thanksgivings or Christmas’. The future Clarke had to look forward to was quite literally emptiness and incomprehensible struggle. But with Lexa pressed tightly to her side, Clarke couldn’t help but hope that they might find something remotely comparable. 

“Clarke.” Lexa said softly, placing down her utensil on a now empty plate, the ting of tin on tin drawing Clarke from her thoughts. “I’m sorry about the past few weeks.”

Clarke opened her mouth to protest but Lexa lifted a hand, begging for Clarke to listen to what she had to say.

“I know why you’re upset with me. I would be too. But I...I got a message from control about a month ago. A....an order. One I wasn’t aware of until recently and it was hard for me to hear. I shouldn’t have placed that on you, broken down like that but I did and it ended up pulling you into this mess.”

“Lexa, we’re on a ship. In _ space. _I think it’s safe to assume that I’m very aware and a part of the “mess” we find ourselves in.” Clarke says, desperate to say the right thing. Only wanting Lexa to share her burdens. They were in this together. Had been since even before launch, they just hadn’t voiced it yet. 

“I know.” Lexa sighs. “I know. But this is...it scared me and I needed some time to process.”

“Why did it scare you?” Clarke asked, grabbing Lexa’s empty dish and stacking it on her own and leaning down to place them on the floor. 

“I…” Lexa struggled with her words and Clarke watched her eyes glaze over as they flicked around the room searching for...Clarke didn’t know. 

“It was just something I wasn’t aware of until recently. Nothing serious but you know me.” Lexa rolled her eyes trying to keep the conversation light. “I’m in charge here. Finding out there is information I wasn’t privy to just rubbed me the wrong way. It wasn’t even something important, just something that made me think. If they forgot to tell me this, what other information have I not gotten? You know?”

“Then why is it a secret?” Clarke asked. If they forgot to tell Lexa that they had included extra raw materials in the hold for different shelter scenarios Lexa would have huffed and relayed the information to Clarke as they shared a pillow later in the evening. It was something more, Clarke was sure of it. But what could it be and why was Lexa sworn to secrecy?

“It’s silly really.” Lexa said, picking at her cuticles before lifting her gaze to Clarke's. “I think Ground just doesn’t want to look incompetent. That and they think I’m awake alone up here. No one I really need to worry about keeping any secrets from. Besides T I guess but there’s no keeping secrets from T.” Lexa smirked. 

“Your tone implies playfulness, Captain.” T cut in over the loudspeaker. “But your information is correct. I am incapable of not ingesting all information passed between Ground Control and AlphaOne. I might add that you and Doctor Griffin are extremely non discrete with your goings on.”

“Thank you, T.” Clarke said, grinning at a chuckling Lexa. 

“See?” Lexa said. “I may not be able to tell you what I was told but I can assure you it’s nothing to worry about. I think two years floating in an expanding void may be messing with my mind is all.”

“Are you sure it’s not the company?” Clarke teased.

“Definitely not the company.” Lexa said as she learned to plant a gentle kiss on Clarke’s lips. 

**Clarke A. Griffin M.D.**

**Days in Space 3,051**

  
  


Clarke disentangles herself from the sleeping pilot and silently slides into Lexa’s worn work jumper. The scratchiness of the man made material had been worn down to something resembling comfort and Clarke inhaled Lexa’s natural scent off the collar. To anyone else they would probably suggest a good washing but to Clarke it was just Lexa condensed. Her natural spicy musk cut with the tang of sweat. It was intoxicating. Comforting. 

“T.” Clarke addresses AlphaOne’s computer as the door to Lexa’s quarters slides shut. “Where are Anya and Raven.” 

“In the control room, Doctor.” T responds. "I believe they are sleeping. They have been silent without movement for-”

“Got it, T. Thank you.” Clarke interrupts. 

“Of course, Doctor.”

When Clarke makes her way to control she finds Anya and Raven slumped in their respective chairs. “I would think eight years in cryo would be enough sleep for someone but I stand corrected.” 

Anya startles awake, immediately standing and trying to surreptitiously wipe any condensation that had accumulated around her mouth while Raven groaned and afforded Clarke with the raise of an eyebrow and a squinted eye.

“What’s up doc?” Raven grumbles.

“Is Lexa alright?” Anya asks.

“She's fine. Sleeping. I may need your help with T, Raven.” 

“Raven Reyes is not authorized to-” T begins but Raven cuts her off. 

“Didn’t stop me last night did it, T?” 

“It did not.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Raven yawned as she straightened in her chair and learned over the nearest console. “What do you need, Clarke?” 

“Where’s the clone?” Clarke asks the room. 

“Bathroom?”

“Uhhh.”

“In her room, Doctor.” T responds. 

“Good. Lock its doors as well as Lexa’s.” Clarke commands.

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Anya asks, hurrying to her and Raven’s side. “No one has that authority besides Lexa.”

“Lexa and I had over two years together to figure out some of T’s coding and grant me access to some of the ship's controls. How else do you think we were able to fool Ground into thinking I was in cryo for so long?” 

“Tricky Griffin.” Raven applauds. “How’d you do it?”

“We just rewrote a line of T’s code enabling her ability to differentiate between the two of us when a command is given.” Clarke explained. “That way any searching through T’s past commands only show Lexa.”

“Well fuck.” Raven said. “That’s smart.” 

“It’s confusing.” T supplies. 

“I know T. That’s the point.” Clarke says.

“For you are two separate entities.” T continues. 

“Yes T.” Clarke says. Sighing and pulling up her own chair alongside Ravens. “Raven I need you to break into T’s memory and retrieve something for me.”

“Tell me what you need.” Raven asks, focusing on the screen in front of her.

“I need you to pull up all private transmissions between Ground and Lexa. Between the dates of…” Clarke paused to think. “Days seven-hundred and eight-hundred.”

“Why those days?” Raven asked. “And if you can command T as Lexa shouldn’t you have access?”

“Not if Ground is controlling what is viewable by us up here. Lexa said Ground has the authority to override controls of AlphaOne.”

“That’s fucked up.” Raven said, typing away on her console. 

“Lexa said she tried to wake me but Ground put a lock on my chamber. I’m guessing me going into cryo and the cloning are related.” Clarke explained.

“And you think Lexa put you into cryo knowing she wouldn’t be able to wake you?” Anya asked disbelievingly. “You just said she tried to wake you up. It doesn’t make sense.”

“No.” Clarke said. “Lexa and I had a schedule for putting me in cryo. We weren’t sure exactly when Ground ran full diagnostics on the ship but we narrowed it down to a two month span every year. I wasn’t meant to be awake with Lexa during the F5 so we cheated the system. Lexa put me in cryo for those two months in the hope that Ground wasn’t diving too deep into the system when they ran their diagnostics. Why would they have to check more than the now if Lexa was awake heavily monitoring all the systems for them? I mean that was the idea behind F5. One pilot awake for the first five years of the mission, monitoring life support and T’s ability to maintain our trajectory and life support. Lexa would be there to catch and report any issues. The yearly diagnostics were just red tape until Lexa was in cryo herself.”

“And it worked?” Anya asked.

“For two years at least.” Clarke shrugged. “But then Lexa had a freak out half way into our third year because of something Ground had sent in a transmission. The next time she put me in cryo…”

“Hmmm.” Raven thought, pausing on her keys for a moment to look up to Anya and Clarke. “So you think whatever transmission she received from Ground is related to you being locked in cryo and the Lexa mini me?”

“Yes. No.” Clarke said, sighing and digging her knuckles into her eyes. “I want to believe that Lexa wouldn’t willingly put me in cryo if she knew she couldn’t wake me and that F5 was actually indefinite. I don’t know if I want to know what that transmission is but I need answers. This clone...” Clarke drops her line of thought unable to say it aloud. This clone changed everything. If Lexa knew about the clone the whole time where did that leave Clarke? She knew what Lexa had told her just hours before but the woman in Lexa’s quarters was nearly a stranger now. Almost as much a stranger as the clone locked in another room somewhere on the ship.

“Clarke.” Anya said softly as she placed a comforting hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “The Lexa I know wouldn’t have given you up so easily.”

“That.” Clarke said, reaching for Anya’s hand and squeezing it for emphasis. “Is not the Lexa either of us know anymore, An.” 

Anya tsks and pulls her hand away. “I don’t believe it. I grew up with her. She’s been bullheaded and brash her whole life but cloning? I don’t think that’s something she would willingly do.”

“Maybe not under normal circumstances.” Raven offered. “But Lexa’s kinda got that hero thing going on.”

They collectively sigh before Raven turns back to her task. “This is gonna take a while.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. All mistakes are mine own and thanks for reading :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> info duuuuuuuuump(she sings)

**Madam President Abigail L. Griffin**

**November 2082**

Abby wasn’t sure what woke her. It could have been the sounds of her security guards' steps creaking on the floorboards outside her room or it could have been the gust of wind against her office window. Hell, Abby wasn’t even sure she had been sleeping. More like losing herself in her thoughts as she stared into the mug of cold coffee on her desk. Thoughts of where exactly her daughter was in space right now, the slowed rate of her heart in cryo. The slowing rate of her husband's heart as he bled out in the grass, the sound of ducks in the background and people screaming. Clarke, four years old and nearly falling into the pond in their neighborhood park, trying to catch a sunbathing turtle on the rocky edge of the waterline. Jake. Her sweet Jake, kissing her softly with glowing blue eyes and making love to her at her family’s lake cabin upstate. 

“Madam President.” A deep voice intones from the other side of Abby’s office door. 

“Hmm. Yes?” Abby responds, rubbing her eyes and swallowing the thickness in her throat. 

“It’s 3 a.m. Madam President. Are you planning on moving to your bedroom tonight or should we keep you here?”

“Here’s fine.” Abby called out. “And Phillip?”

“Yes Madam President?”

“Call me Abby.”

“Yes Madam...Yes Abby.”

Abby rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck back, eyes roaming the ceiling of the oval office as she called out to her private computer, I. 

“How far is Clarke, I?”

“Clarke Griffin has just passed the orbital path of Saturn, Abby.” 

“Saturn.” Abby repeated. “Would she have seen it?”

“You mean if she wasn’t in cryogenic sleep?” I asks.

“Yes.”

“No. Saturn would be in a different point of its orbit when AlphaOne crossed Saturn’s orbit.”

“Hmm. She would have loved to see Saturn.” Abby said aloud. “Or it would have been nice to get AlphaOne to take some pictures if we could have managed that.”

“AlphaOne’s timing was designed as such to allow photographs to be taken of Pluto and the Kuiper Belt.” I clarified. 

Abby pursed her lips and waved her hand in front of her sleeping computer screen, waking it and bathing her side of the office in cool blue light. 

“When was our last diagnostics on AlphaOne?”

“Just over nine months ago.” I said.

“And Clarke’s status?”

“Alive and healthy, Abby.”

“Anything out of the normal from T or Lt. Commander Woods?” Abby asked.

“The only abnormality found was an increase of directions from Lt. Commander Woods.” I supplied.

“What do you mean?” Abby asked, straightening in her chair and opening the diagnostic reports on the screen in front of her.

“Lt. Commander’s command frequency went up by thirty-seven percent since our last diagnostic of AlphaOne.” I answered. 

“Is that bad?” 

“Not bad. A change in pattern is all.”

“And communication with T?”

“Still no breaks in communication. Ground estimates we have another six years before we lose contact with AlphaOne. We will have to wait until a habitable planet is found and a base can be set up before contact can be made again.”

Abby breathes deep and rubs her temples with her thin fingers.  _ Clarke is alive. She is our future. She will keep it safe.  _

Opening her eyes once more, Abby addresses her computer. “I, please play me back the home videos of Clarke’s graduation.”

“Which one?”

“Sixth grade, please.”

“Of course, Abby. Shall I have Phillip bring more coffee?”

“No, that will be all. Thank you.”

“Madam.” I says as Abby’s computer screen comes to life with a round faced Clarke, beaming and running to her father's waiting arms with a laminated “diploma” in her hand.

  
  
  


**Jacabo A. Sinclair Phd**

**November 2082**

“I’m not entirely sure if I agree with this.” Sinclair said, as his eyes quickly roved over the information in front of him. The new report in front of him had been delivered early that morning enveloped in a red folder placed at the top of the stack of folders handed to him as he walked into his office at ground control. 

“I know I don’t.” Indra said, flipping through her own copy of the same document. 

“Did you know about this?” She had accusingly asked as she burst into his office clutching a red folder of her own before he had had the time to thoroughly read over his with ever widening eyes of shock. They had been processing the information together since.

“How could they not tell us!” Indra fumed, slapping her file onto Sinclair’s desk and proceeding to pace his small office. “This could ruin the whole mission. We knew Woods was a risk before. The best for the job but explosive and unpredictable. This. THIS is the kind of thing that is going to ruin this for all of us. She will not handle this well.”

“We can only hope she does.” Sinclair offers with little conviction. “At least we know she’s dedicated to the survival of the human race. If she can ground herself after the shock of this, things should be fine.”

“If she can..?” Indra started in frustration. “She is always grounded, Sinclair, but grounded in what she believes is right. That doesn't mean it will align with what is right according to that file.” She points accusatory at the red file in question. “This...this... _ surprise  _ could destroy the future. The survival of humanity!” 

“I’m as shocked as you are.” Sinclair said.

“Then why don’t you look it?!” 

“I don’t know!” Sinclair yelled, rising to Indra’s emotional bait. “I can’t believe they left us in the dark on this! I can’t believe they left Lt. Commander Woods out of this. This goes beyond breaching protocol. This is a matter of morality!”

“Jesus, Sinclair.” Indra muttered, peeking her head out of Sinclairs office checking for listening ears before gently closing the door. 

“You’re!” Sinclair checks himself and runs his hands over his rumpled shirt, clearing his throat. “You, Mrs. Martin, were the one who raised their voice first.”

“Yes. Well. I’m Angry.” Indra says, sitting on the edge of Sinclair’s desk. She massages her temples with her hands while they sit in silence trying to come to terms with what they have both just learnt. “Do you know if there is any way for us to reach AlphaOne without the rest of ground knowing about it?” Indra breaks the silence.

“Not legally.” Sinclair says. “I could hack into the system. Send a coded message for T to crack. It would have to be a line of code that once she cracked it, enabled us and Woods to communicate without any of it being recorded or tracked.”

“So nothing short of treason is going to allow us to have a candid conversation with our pilot.” Indra concludes. 

“You’d think that removing manipulation and secrecy would be a part of saving the human race.” Sinclair said exasperated. 

“Well they have their secrets. We can have ours.” Indra said decisively as she stood from Sinclairs desk.

“What secrets?” He asked.

“Lt. Commander Lexa Woods is not the only conscious soul on AlphaOne.”

“What?” 

Indra lowered her voice and moved to lean on Sinclairs side of his desk. “I was going over our last diagnostic of AlphaOne and the only thing out of place was the amount of commands our pilot had given to T. Initially we just chalked it up to boredom. She’s coming up on three years alone. T was built to emulate human characteristics. Maybe she was being used as a tool of entertainment.”

“Right.” Sinclair nodded his head encouragingly. 

“Well, you and I both know a green diagnostic report is a good one. But good is boring.” Indra smirked and continued on. “So I dug into the only off thing about the last report and found that multiple orders had been given at the same time to T from our Lt. Commander. 

“T is more than capable of receiving stacked orders though.” Sinclair said. “Woods could have been easily listing off a series of commands during a single interaction.”

“Ahh.” Indra said. “I assumed that as well but then I looked at the orders. One was to run a flush of a single cryo pod's air while the other was to dispense fresh coffee in the canteen.”

“So…” Sinclair thought out loud. “She was running routine maintenance on the pods and wanted some coffee when she was done.”

“She asked for sixteen ounces.” Indra said.

“She’s picked up a caffeine addiction?” Sinclair guessed. “What else is there to do in space?”

“She asked for sixteen ounces of coffee and two mugs to put it in.” Indra said smugly. 

Sinclair straightened in his chair.

“She asked for two mugs of coffee in section E4 of AlphaOne while she simultaneously requested a cryo flush in C2.” Indra said pleased with herself. 

“Wait what?” Sinclair said. “That’s not possible. Those are opposite sides of the ship.”

“Mmm hmm.” Indra nodded. 

“Well if T is getting commands from two “Lt. Commanders” then maybe the cloning was in effect earlier than our report states.” Sinclair reasoned. 

“That or I found a new line of code written into T’s command center.” Indra went on. “I had no idea about the cloning operation until today so when I discovered this I dug further. It seems our pilot, or whoever else is awake with her, is tech savvy enough to change T’s code into thinking whoever is giving her these orders is also the Lt. Commander. Or at least to log them in the system as such. That’s why her number of commands to T has gone up.” Indra crossed her arms self satisfactorily and leaned back from her conspiratorial hunch in Sinclair’s personal space.

“She’s got company.” Sinclair said, shocked, looking up into Indra Martin’s penetrating gaze. “When did you discover this?”

“Three days ago.” Indra said.

“Why didn’t you report it?” Sinclair asked.

“I wanted to be sure before I went ahead accusing our pilot of breaching protocol. I planned on trying to run a more thorough diagnostic on our cryo pods and see who we were missing, if we were missing anyone at all, and write a full report. I just haven’t figured out how to do so without getting the rats in ground sniffing up my ass and asking questions.” 

“I can help with that.” Sinclair offered immediately.

“I knew I liked you.” Indra smiled. 

  
  
  
  


**Lt. Commander Alexandria R. Woods**

**Days in Space: 824**

Lexa sat in the lab of AlphaOne rotating a vial full of innocuous clear liquid. She tipped it from side to side and watched as the slightly viscous liquid clung to the walls before proceeding to drip down to reform with the rest of the contents. She had shaken it violently until it bubbled, had thrown it against the bulkhead, had nearly disposed of it through the airlock and had even considered prying the lid off and swallowing what was contained inside. That last one had set Lexa to retching at just the thought and so now she sat slumped, contemplating what lay in her slender fingers. Her. 

F5 was lie. It was more like F infinite. The ship needed a living human lifeform, awake and active, to be fully operational. Without that, AlphaOne would just be free floating in space, potentially passing by inhabitable planets. Lexa still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. T was a sophisticated machine. But not sophisticated enough as to be able to find a habitable planet without the constant reminder of what being human was, what they needed, living alongside her during this whole miserable journey. An example. That’s what the message from control had said. T needed a living example to be able to constantly draw from and use to save humanity.

Lexa had tried to poke as many holes in the logic as possible. Why couldn’t they just program T to search for an oxygen rich planet? Have T search for water and carbon life forms and survivable temperatures?

“Because we can’t predict what is out there and what the human body is capable of for survival.” The text on Lexa's screen had responded minutes later. The lag between Ground and AlphaOne’s communication increased with everyday they traveled further from earth. “Because space is so...alien, we could come across things unfathomable to us and T may need that lifeform to test a human beings compatibility with any potentially survivable planet.” 

Ground had pushed forward then, not leaving Lexa any more room for argument and had continued to instruct her on gaining access to the lab and commencing the production of a “reproduction” of Lieutenant Commander Lexa Woods. Lexa knew what that meant though. They needed someone on board to sacrifice themselves for science. A lab rat available to be sent to a planet and test it’s survivability. Someone that could die, over and over and over again without costing the mission any “true” loss of life. Lexa was doomed to sacrifice herself, whether it was this form or another, potentially for tens or hundreds of years until mankind was safe. And even if the vial in Lexa’s hand had smashed dramatically against the bulkhead like she had planned or sent out an airlock, there were still a hundred more identical vials and the machinery loaded with Lexa’s genetic make-up, ready to produce more of the terrifying liquid. And all she had to do was plug it in. 

The darkened machine sitting in front of Lexa sat ominously, just waiting to be brought to life. Waiting for her to slide the vial into the cylindrical space on it’s front. Waiting for her to check periodically on the body that would be growing rapidly within its glass walls, floating in a pink gel that constantly fed the growing being both Lexa’s genes and her memories. But none of her current ones. Just the memories she had up until the moment the genetic samples had been taken from her. Any new memories Lexa would have to transmit to the clone-Lexa herself. Either through journals or in person. Lexa wasn’t sure if she could handle telling herself about the two plus years she had spent on the ship with Clarke. What she had learned about the inner workings of AlphaOne or how deeply she had fallen in love. How breaking protocol was surprisingly easy once Clarke became involved and that this clone would have to continue to cover for her once she was in cryo. But would she really have to tell her clone all that? Couldn’t she just hop into cryo with Clarke once her cloned self was about to awake and wake up countless years later like nothing had happened? Pass on the responsibility and pain of ensuring the survival of the human race to a slightly younger version of herself? Lexa believed herself capable. And if what came out of this machine was indeed just another her. Surely it...she...could be trusted? 

But, information was vital, the report had said. Imagine having your blood drawn and dermal scrapes collected at the hospital, going through the final process of preparing for this mission only to black out and wake up alone in space, years lost to your memory? How would that feel? A tear ran down Lexa’s cheek as she considered that. How alone she would feel. How scared. And what about her feelings for Clarke at that time? Clarke was the one taking the samples, unbeknownst to her what they would be used for, but still. Clarke was there, smiling softly at Lexa as she gently pricked her arm and ran a thumb soothingly along her forearm. To have such warmth one moment only to awake in such a cold sterile place broke Lexa’s heart for her future self. She couldn’t let that happen. Her clone needed a reason to die time and time again on alien planets, terrified, alone and in pain. She needed Clarke.

Clarke had changed Lexa’s motivations once they had become close. She wasn’t just doing this out of her sense of duty anymore. It was for Clarke. There was a glowing face attached to Lexa’s mission now. Humanity had a name and it was already Clarke by the time her cells had been collected for the cloning process. Lexa couldn’t live without Clarke anymore. Or at least the memory of her to keep her going.

Mind made up. Lexa moved to the sub-zero freezer containing the vials of her genetic mapping and collected them all. Tossing them half haphazardly into a waste basket before sliding it under a panel covered with touch screens in the corner. She rifled through some cabinets and drawers until she found what was needed and turned on a smaller, globular machine in the corner, it’s whirring filling the quiet lab with noise and the dim light it emitted lighting up Lexa’s determined face blue as she carefully struggled with finding the vein in the crook of her arm with the needle and syringe she had found. Lexa hissed as she pulled the needle from her bruised vein and threw it into the corner alongside the waste basket. Clarke had made it so painless before. 

Lexa swallowed hard and wiped her nose with the back of her hand before she slid the vial into place on the globelike device and hit the command key to commence on the keyboard attached to its front. The globe glowed from a cool blue to a warm red as her blood was vacuumed up from the vial and distributed along the machines own set of veins and arteries criss crossing within the globe. 

Lexa stood watching in silence until the globe glowed a bright white light and she stood with a new vial of clear liquid in her palm. She placed the single vial into cold storage and left the lab, rolling the sleeve of her jumper down her arm to cover the small bruise over her vein and smoothing out the fabric covering her torso. 

“Clarke?” She called softly, walking into the living quarters of the ship. “Baby?”

“Over here!” Clarke called back from the kitchen and Lexa rounded the corner to find her reading on a tablet at the small table there, a mug of steaming hot water held up against her rosy cheek. “Hi, love.” She greeted and smiled sweetly. “Where did you go?”

“Just to do some checks in the belly. Wanted to make sure all our lines were still holding up and the connections were still secure.” Lexa lied easily, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on Clarke’s warm lips. 

“Ew. I hate it down there. It’s creepy.” Clarke remarked, turning back to her reading and squeezing Lexa’s hip. “Stay with me?” She asks, letting loose her grip on Lexa to tap her screen and flip the page.

“Of course.” Lexa says. Dropping down to straddle the bench seat and wrap her arms around Clarke’s midsection, resting her chin on Clarke’s shoulder and burying her nose in familiar blonde waves. 

**Madam President Abigail L. Griffin**

**January, 2083**

“Please tell me why my head of operations and top engineer have decided to hack into their own system behind my back!” The director snarled at the two people sitting across from Abby and him. 

Abby never particularly liked the director of ground control but she appreciated his strictly business attitude. It’s hard not to find someone too emotionally invested in the continuation of the human race. Emotions tended to muck up the waters as far as Abby was concerned when it came to that. 

“If you can keep secrets from us it only seemed fair to keep some from you.” The head of operations, Mrs. Martin, snapped back defensively. “How could you leave us in the dark as something so extreme as  _ cloning _ ?!”

“Cloning?” Abby interjected, confused. “What’s this about cloning?”

“You didn’t even tell the President?” The other man at the table, Dr. Sinclair said.

“It was on a need to know basis.” The director retorted.

“Well I need to know.” Abby said. “Now. This operation wouldn’t be off the ground if it weren’t for me and my approval!”

“Which is why we didn’t tell you.” The director said. “All due respect Madam President. I was worried you were too emotionally involved once your daughter became a part of the team.”

“Of course I’m emotionally invested!” Abby snapped back. “This is the survival of our species!” 

_ Oh. Shit.  _

“Exactly.” The director said. “Anything and everything must be done to ensure our survival. I made some hard calls but I believe they were the right ones.”

“How many?” Abby asks, rubbing her forehead and cringing internally at her own reaction.

“How many what?” Dr. Sinclair asks.

“How many people know about the cloning?” Abby asked.

“Including the people in this room. Seven.” The director supplied. 

“And who is being cloned?” Abby asked.

“Lt. Commander Woods.” Dr. Sinclair provided. “Our machines and the technology we have available to us only allows the cloning of a single life form.”

Abby hisses. She knew the pilot. Had met with her several times and respected the woman but can only imagine how she would take learning they had begun the process of cloning her without her consent. Not well. 

“So… you two reached out to gain her perspective on the matter?” Abby directs her question to the two sitting across from her. “Seems reasonable. Why would you go through so much trouble to hide it though?”

At that the two conspirators actively avoid eye contact with the Madame President while the Director shuffles his papers nervously. 

“What?” Abby prods. “Tell me or find yourselves replaced.”

“There was more to their message to AlphaOne than just that.” The director starts.

“And what may that be?”

  
  


The director nervously slides over a piece of paper covered in communications between Ground and AlphaOne. A single line of code and a message directly after highlighted.

“We wanted to know why Dr. Griffin has not been in cryo with the rest of the crew, Madame President.” Martin states. 

“You…?” Abby takes a moment to try and calm herself. She swallows thickly and runs her hands down the already pristine shirt she wore. “Clarke’s awake?” 

Sinclair nods, still avoiding eye contact and picking at his cuticles. 

“And have you received a response?” Abby asks. 

“Yes.” The director says, sliding another piece of paper to Abby. “The response was that Dr. Clarke has not been removed from cryo since her initial placement.” 

Abby pushed away from the conference table and stands, trying to remain calm.  _ Bigger picture, Abby. Stay emotionally detached. What would you do if this wasn’t Clarke? _

“What makes you think Clarke is out of cryo if all our diagnostics have shown her in cryo every time we’ve run them?” She asks the two nervous employees still sitting with their eyes averted. 

Martin clears her throat and stands. “I believe they have been fooling the system we had in place in able for Dr. Griffin to...accompany Lt. Commander Woods during F5. But as it seems F5 has been a farce…” At this Martin openly glares at the Director. “I’m not sure what will change aboard AlphaOne.”

“ _ Accompany _ .” Abby scoffs. She knows her daughter. She knew she had grown close to Woods before departure. Every time Abby had called or texted Clarke, she was on her way to meet up with Woods or preparing for a dinner party at her house that Woods was attending. 

“Does Clarke know about the cloning?” Abby asks, pacing now. 

“We don’t know.” Sinclair jumps in. “They...Lt. Commander has refused to respond to any follow up messages.” 

“We believe…” The Director jumps in, eager to calm the situation. “That your daughter was placed back in cryo once they became aware of our knowledge of the situation on AlphaOne.” 

Abby stops pacing to land her gaze on both Martin and Sinclair. “She’s in cryo now? As we speak?” 

“We…” Sinclair looks sideways to Martin for support before continuing. “We believe so, Madame President.”

“And we still have communication with AlphaOne? Even though Woods won’t respond?”

“Yes, Madame President.” The Director says.

“Good.” Abby nods decisively. “Lock her in.”

All eyes except Abby’s widen in surprise at the order before they can right their faces into those of indifference. 

“Madame-” Sinclair starts before Abby cuts him off.

“No.” Abby says. “We have a potentially rogue pilot on our hands. One dealing with the new information dumped on her with this whole cloning business.” Abby squeezed the bridge of her nose with annoyance before she waves the feeling off. “Dealing with that plus her disregard for the rules and keeping Clarke out of cryo is too much to handle. With Clarke locked in cryo we can focus on the more pressing matter.” She moves back to her place at the table and sits calmly. “How soon can we lock Dr. Griffin in cryo?” She asks.

“Uhm. Uh.” Sinclair startles as he reaches for a laptop lying nearby. “Immediately.”

“Good.” Abby sighs. “Now. Tell me everything about this clone.” 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)  



End file.
